


Blinded Sight, Faltering Heart

by PsychicBeagle



Series: Unraveling Threads [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Archaeology, But Seriously It's Not Pretty, Darkest Themes Yet, Mutual Crushes, No Spoilers, On a mountain, Possession, foregone conclusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8810053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicBeagle/pseuds/PsychicBeagle
Summary: Two Souls remain, sleeping, waiting. These six have seen much, but none more than this pair. What knowledge lies buried with them? When do you know too much? This is a tale of mind and spirit.
Of Perseverance and Kindness.
Of Purple and Green.
Side story to Spirits Bound, sequel to Wilting Faith, Unbound Courage. Spoilers for the former, but you don't need to read that one. Should read the latter for context.





	1. Shadow of Time

            I glanced between the map in my hands and the forest in front of me. I was pretty sure we were in the right place, especially since this was the one chunk of woods with a mountain smack in the center for miles. Unless we were miles off, in which case I’d have a serious question about why I was the one with the map.

            “This is the place you were talking about, right?” My minor worry completely blanked when I saw exactly how unconcerned John was, the only things I could see behind that dusty, torn up book being his shaggy black hair and the very top of his glasses.

            “I believe so. The trees depicted in the tome are definitely oak, just like the ones here. The next closest mountain, which is thirty kilometers in the exact opposite direction, mind, is mostly surrounded by cedar. In short, there’s only half of a percent of a chance that you’ve misled us, Terry. Quite the improvement if I do say so myself.” Why did he insist on being so long winded about it? A yes or no would’ve done, and I was only half sure if that last part was a compliment. I chose to roll with it, trusting that he wouldn’t insult me straight to my face.

            “If you say so. Um, why did you give me the map anyway? We both remember what happened last time.” He barely suppressed a full shudder, book dropping enough to see his disturbed expression, like just thinking about it was making him sick to his stomach.

            “As much as I wish I didn’t. I can never look at maple syrup the same again.” He coughed, blushing a little as his eyes met mine, hiding back behind his book. “I needed someone to follow me who could support whatever findings I come across, and you’re the one person I can say I trust completely. I also figured this would be as good of a time as any to practice your… untrained skills, seeing as this location is too relatively unique to miss easily.” He stopped in his tracks, looking out over the book at me again. “Wait, that’s not quite right. What I meant to say was…” I giggled, that rare loss of composure just the cutest thing.

            “Hey, no biggie. So I suck at maps, what’s so wrong about admitting it?” Looking closely, I could almost see him swallow that lump in his throat, beating back his embarrassment with a stick. Or, more accurately, a very old book. Looking up, I saw the sun was almost done setting, the yellows and reds getting slowly overtaken by purple, the perfect way to change the subject. “I think now’s as good a time to set camp as any. We can go do the whole archeology thing in the morning, when we’re all rested up and can actually see what we’re doing.” He jumped at the chance I gave him, carefully closing his book and sliding it back into his pack.

            “Right, no sense in continuing as is. I’ll get the tents ready if you can handle the fire.”

 

-

 

            I tapped the side of the shaker ever so lightly, a small sprinkling of black granules falling out onto the sizzling pan. It was important to get just the right amount. Too little and I might as well not have bothered, but too much would make the taste too unpalatable for all but the most deadened of tongues. I’m pretty sure I was the only person around who took cooking hotdogs on a campfire so seriously, but I found the most careful preparation made the best meals, even from such simple ingredients. Especially from simple ingredients. Surprise was a powerful tool.

            Seasoning done, I took a chance to see how John’s work was coming along. Like a real gentleman, he had put my tent up first, the simple green not disturbing the natural colors of the outdoors. It looked pretty good, too, much less lopsided than whenever I was in charge. Then again, he probably knew the directions better than me, one hand holding the manual up over his eyes as the other put up the frame for his own shelter.

            “Dinner’s just about ready. Come on over and eat for now, I’ll help you finish up in a bit.” With the last wire in place, it was only a matter of getting the cover lined up right, the easiest part of the whole process so long as everything before it was done correctly. Me helping wouldn’t technically do much, but it was the thought that counted. He seemed to agree, giving me a thankful nod and smile as he packed the manual away.

            “It smells delicious. What all did you use?” I smiled as he took a seat, considering being vague for a moment. Hmm, nah, I could trust him with my secret recipes.

            “Honestly, it’s just franks with salt and pepper. Anyone could make them if they tried.” The light danced across his spectacles, a sly smirk marking his intent.

            “So it’s easy for someone worth their salt?” I tried, really I did, but I couldn’t not laugh. As corny as it was, his timing was on point. Besides, that look he got when he was trying to be sneaky was always a weak spot of mine.

            “Come on, not fa-air!” I had to fight against the giggles to avoid dropping my hard work on the ground, but I had enough practice with my hand-eye coordination to manage. I was able to get the pan to the folding table without incident. “You know I can’t keep a straight face when you go and pun like that!”

            “Well, that’s even more reason for me. You’re the one person who laughs at my jokes, and I plan on taking advantage of that.” I playfully stuck my tongue out at him, though the effect was kind of dulled by my hands still getting a few dogs into their buns for him. I really didn’t mind in the end, it was charming.

            “If you’re going to be multitasking like that come tomorrow, you’d better eat up. I’ve got more than enough food stocked up for the whole trip, so don’t be shy.” Well, he half listened to me. He happily took the paper plate I offered, but still blushed and avoided eye contact. I took a close look at him while I could. Was it him just being shy or something more? As much as I hoped, I still wasn’t completely sure. I could play the long game, though. Slow and careful always payed off in the end.

            “Not to say I don’t appreciate this, but you know you’re playing into the stereotypes right now, right?” I was taken back by his sudden direct manner and half serious, half concerned look in his eyes.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, we both know what the masses typically think of when it comes to women. Cooking, laughing at every joke, beauty. I’m concerned what image everyone will start falsely forging of you when they notice how close you are to the general consensus. I don’t want people to stop paying you due respect or start thinking any less of you…”

            “Let them think whatever they want.” I confidently took a chunk out of my meal, enjoying my handicraft before continuing. “If someone is so ready to say I’m this or that because I’m doing what I enjoy, then I probably wouldn’t want them as a friend anyway. As long as I have someone like you around, I’ll be just fine, thank you very much.” That said, it was pretty heartwarming to have someone looking out for me. It was rare to find someone in school with a drop of genuine care.

            Didn’t stop me from messing with him, though. I waited until he was almost finished with a bite before springing.

            “So, beauty?” He swallowed extra hard, eyes popping open like a deer in the headlights. I smiled impishly as his face went tomato red.

            “N-n-no, I didn’t mean it like… I mean I did, but…!” I giggled into my hand, message made clear. If he wanted to joke with me, I’d be happy to play ball. I had mercy for the first round, cutting into his spiral of foot-in-mouth.

            “I’m flattered you like how I look.” I ran a hand through my hair, flipping my blonde ponytail from one shoulder to the other. “You have no idea how hard it is to keep my complexion nice and smooth working with grease and oils all day.” Seriously, keep a strong set of shampoo and soap on hand or the grime layer could be thick, and going to bed like that is the best way to wake up with acne. That simply isn’t pleasant.

            “I-I could imagine. All the b-blockage in your pores would cause breakouts pretty easily.” He was barely able to get his skin down to normal, the barest tint of red in his cheeks, and he still fumbled with his words. Even so, that small smile told me everything I needed to hear. That was enough for me for one night. After all, I didn’t want to use up all my material too soon.

            “So, what did you want me to help look for anyway? Your details were kind of vague.” All I really got was something about the mountain being a weird place and some sort of ancient people. He was a little too excited to talk directly about it without rambling earlier, but I gave him credit for being able to get the part about wanting me to come along and help across.

            “If by vague you mean a stuttering mess, then yes, I was completely cryptic.” He cleared his throat, wiping his hands off on the grass before grabbing for his pack. In a pocket all to itself was that big, dusty book. It looked like it was bound by old leather, thick enough to assault someone with, and there was some sort of strange symbol on the front. I thought I could make out a circle in the middle with two limbs stretching out to the sides, but it was so worn away that I couldn’t be sure.

            “I came here about a week ago to investigate a local legend. Many in the nearby towns cite this as a sinister place, somewhere you should not enter without good reason. When asked further, the only tangible excuse they had was the sudden disappearances of four children within the last ten years.” I couldn’t hold back the shudder and the sudden fear that there was something watching.

            “Wait, how would that be an _only_!? Kids going missing is a big deal! You know, like us?” He flinched under the wave of panic.

            “I really could have said that better. I should point out, first and foremost, that thousands of people go missing around the country within one year. Going by the numbers, four in a decade makes these woods notably safer for us than most large cities.” I wasn’t sure if I felt alright ever setting foot near a skyscraper again, but my worries about the forest were put off. Only a little bit, though, enough to focus on something else.

            “What confuses me is that the idea seems to have persisted for centuries, possibly even millennia. No one can remember where it began, only that it has been in effect longer than their eldest living relatives have been alive. On top of that, a quick scan of the area shows absolutely no signs of mass settlement. There was only one hut I could find within a ten mile radius of the mountain, and even that has been abandoned for a long time.”

            “Doesn’t it strike you as strange that such a place, with so much timber, a clean river, and a possibly lucrative mining spot in the nearby ravines, has been entirely ignored by settlers?”

            Now that he mentioned it, looking around, this was the perfect place to start a small town. The air was clean, the view was nice, and it wouldn’t have been too hard to set up routes to other towns for shipping stuff around. You could make a nice home out here and a good living to boot.

            “What sort of stuff happened out here to make people so jumpy about it?”

            “That’s what I intend to find out, but I knew the residents wouldn’t be much assistance. People don’t tend to put much faith it child researchers. In fact, the only reason Sunnyside allowed me to be gone for an extended time is because I said I was invited for an outing with friends. For the record, if we go back empty handed, we were away on a camping trip, nothing more.” Well, that was convenient. It’s exactly what I told my Mom I would be gone for. It was the first thing that came to mind when I thought up excuses to go out into the woods. We were lucky my parents trusted me to stay safe.

            That and Dad, one, knew about my crush and, two, trusted John enough to say he wouldn’t take advantage of me. He said it reminded him a little of how he and Mom met, and that’s when I decided it was a good time to leave. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the story, it was touching, but the guy could go on for a while when he got started and I had to get going to meet up on time.

            “That still doesn’t explain where you got the book, though.”

            “No need to worry, I was getting there.” He turned away from the fire, staring up at the towering mountain ahead. “Mount Ebott seemed to be the largest concern among those who I spoke to. They told me, under no uncertain terms, that even if I was forced to traverse these woods, I should never set foot on the mountain. The paranoia surrounding it is so thick that it was reported that an active police unit halted pursuit of a repeat felon, whose total value of stolen goods nearly breached the five digit line, in order to avoid that place. Even stranger than that, no one held it against them, not even so much as a mark on any of their records for what should be considered failure in the line of duty. On top of every other oddity and inconsistency, I knew there was something to be found in that place, and I was correct.” He lightly tapped the cover of his book, pulling it open slowly.

            “Near the peak of the mountain, I found an unusual cave. For such a relatively small formation, an opening of that nature towards the uppermost layers is peculiar. It became more suspect when I found a dead drop directly in the center. It was a large hole, enough to fit most forms of bus through, and it seemed to get wider as it went lower, down to a point where I could no longer see. It was as though the mountain itself was hollowed out, a geographical impossibility in all but the most active of volcanoes, and no such activity has ever been recorded here.”

            “Then, tucked away in a corner just out of sight from the entrance, I found this tome, almost completely covered by grey dust as opposed to the lighter browns that normally compose the local soil. Here, look at this.” He held the book up in the light, a hastily scribbled picture of what looked like a mountain scratched into the top of the page. My eyes jumped between the image and the mountain just ahead, the two almost lining up perfectly.

            “It’s a drawing of Mount Ebott!” He nodded firmly, his thoughts the exact same. “So don’t keep me waiting, what’s the book say?” His reaction was a lot less positive, the cringe almost regretful.

            “Unfortunately, I have no idea. Look at the text.” I did, but I couldn’t read it. It was a mess of scratches that looked like some sort of alien language.

            “I guess it is an old book. It must’ve been written before most modern languages were a thing.”

            “Not so. If we turn to the first page…” Papers turned, row after row of that odd scratchy writing, until we reached the beginning. There, at the top of the page, was a single sentence I could understand.

            ‘FOR ALL WHO COME AFTER, THESE MAY BE MY FINAL WORDS, RECORDED IN THE ANCIENT RUNIC TONGUE AS THERE ARE MANY WHO WOULD TURN MY WORDS AGAINST THEE.’

            After that, it went back to the scratches, but I felt I understood what I was looking at a little better.

            “Whoever wrote this did it in code so no one they didn’t trust could read it?”

            “Precisely, and reading between the lines presents even more.” He set the book flat on the ground, letting him look at it as easily as me. “The author calls this writing an ‘ancient tongue.’ However, upon researching as many languages that could classify as such possible, none of the original styles even come close to matching this. The original markings of monks, Latin, native carvings, nothing. These symbols are utterly unique. That would mean that whatever culture this tome originated from is yet unknown, its presence all but forgotten.”

            “Aside from the fear left from when they were here…” A few pieces were coming together. Something about this long gone culture scared the ancestors of the locals so much that they’re still afraid so long after they vanished. “I get it, you want to see if there are any other relics from them around.” He nodded, eyes flaring with raw determination. He was in his element.

            “Finding a civilization of such a powerful persuasion could very well be the hallmark of my life. Could you imagine the stories? A young orphan, employing only his own wit and the aid of a dear friend, uncovers a hidden piece of the tapestry of the world!”

            “Slow down there, Sherlock, there’s no need to hurry. If you do something this big now, there won’t be any glory left for future you, you know?” His enthusiasm was almost palpable, but he needed to save it. If he burnt himself out here, I’d be on my own when we actually got around to the looking part.

            “The world can be an uncertain place. You never know how much longer you have in it.” I stared at him, taken off guard by the sudden drop in mood. His smile was almost paper thin, and there was a sort of sourness in his eyes. He blinked, shaking his head for a moment, and the weird feeling was gone. “If I am to set my name in stone, this is my best chance to do it.” He turned those hopeful eyes on me, an unnatural tiredness seeping through.

            “I tried alone, and I failed to find much more than a single book. You’re the only one who would trust me enough to listen, so please. Help me realize my dream.” A pang rolled through my heart, his faith in me taking on a whole new light. As far as he could see, his future was in my hands. It was a powerful responsibility, but I couldn’t leave him alone. I had come this far, I could go however long he needed.

            “Silly.” Confusion washed across his face, that moment I let pass before clarifying seeing his serious mood drain out. “I already told you I would help, didn’t I? I’m not going to bail on you now. In for the penny, in for the pound, right?” He stared at me, expression somewhere between startled chipmunk and thinking sloth. It ended with a light laugh, muscle tension deflating as fast as it came.

            “That is how it goes, isn’t it? I suppose that makes us partners?” He slowly, cautiously put his hand out, fingers rigid. I promptly did the same, feeling his muscles lock for a second before getting used to the contact.

            “I’m with you, to discovery or bust!” I tried my cheesiest happy face, tip of my tongue poking out, winking playfully. My cheer spread fast, a louder, more fitting laugh echoing out of the camp. No matter what, I would make sure tomorrow was at least fun.


	2. Shadow of Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in light, dark holds some power. Where does it lurk?

            Question, since when is it supposed to be cold in early Fall? Cool, sure, but not just plain cold. Yesterday when we were hiking through the woods, it was still about sixty-five Fahrenheit. Now I was pretty sure we were in the upper forties. There I was on the side of a small mountain with jean shorts and a grassy green tank top freezing my exposed skin off. My one saving grace was my apron, which was at least thick enough to keep the wind off the front of my legs, as well as the loop on the back that I could tie stuff to. A frying pan wasn’t the best windbreak, but it was all I had.

            John was much better off, having packed a purple sweater incase the night was especially cool. Well, he was right, and he was benefitting for his forethought. As a bonus, it had a huge pocket right in the front, giving him much easier access to that old book when he wanted to look at it. There was even room for a spare notebook in there, which he was quick to take advantage of. If we found something, he would be ready to write it down in a second flat.

            But that was the problem. We had to see something first. The weirdest thing for me was that a narrow path lead straight from the base of Mount Ebott to the top, but he had already taken note of that before he brought me in. It was pretty beat up and weathered by his judgment, a sign that it hadn’t been used too much for a while. It fit with the idea of an old civilization, but we needed something more substantial.

            My hopes were high when we found the mouth of a cave opening near the bottom, pointing out towards the West, but they didn’t stay that way long, the cavern coming to a close about ten feet in. I scanned every inch of that thing for carvings or primitive paintings, maybe another book in a language I could read, but there wasn’t any of that. There was one weird thing, though. The wall furthest in was flat and smooth. Where every other stone surface was craggy and old, this one was slick like the side of a good house.

            “Perhaps this was one of their artistry chambers, as you suggested, but the paints withered away at some point between now and then. It’s entirely possible that they failed to use a decay resistant substance. Still, it would take a great deal of talent and knowledge to keep a natural surface undamaged, especially this long after they vanished. Hmm, I had best keep the note on this brief, at least until we find corroborating evidence.”

            With the one thing of interest in there accounted for, we left the cave for higher grounds. I personally kept a sharp eye open for more hidden alcoves, hoping that, if my idea was right, one of them would be secluded enough to preserve the old paintings. Even with the finest of combs, we couldn’t find anything like that, or anything in general, really. All there was to be seen for a while was stone.

            I glanced over my shoulder every now and then to keep tabs on John, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. He seemed to slouch when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and his stance only got more and more loose and uncaring as we climbed higher. His movements slowed and bags started forming under his eyes. I almost suggested that we headed back to the camp around one P.M., but leaving empty handed would only make him feel worse. For his sake, I kept my eyes as sharp as possible, scanning the mountainside for even one out of place rock.

            Eventually, I started wearing out, too, leaning against a wall for some extra support, eyes closed to focus on my breathing. I heard footsteps still going up the path. I figured John either hadn’t noticed I’d stopped yet or wanted to keep looking while I rested up. Either way, I wasn’t about to stop him. Mountain climbing wasn’t exactly easy, even with a road leading the way. At least it was too cold to sweat.

            When I opened my eyes, looking straight down, I noticed a weird dip in the ground. Dropping to my knees, I got a good look, a small, almost invisible line going on straight ahead. Maybe a foot to the left, I saw another, similar line, parallel to the first. The marks were too perfectly lined up to be natural. Were these tracks from someone else who got the same idea as us? If so, when were they here? Were they still around?

            And, most importantly, what exactly were they riding here? It struck me as a really stupid move to go riding something other than your own two feet in a place this high up and on a path this thin. One wrong move and you’d fall for sure. And yet, I was certain the tracks came from something, and the only things that could leave marks this straight were small wheels.

            If someone else had already been this far into the so-called forbidden mountain, John needed to know.

            I ran after him, careful not to step on the tracks. They were pretty hard to see as was, so someone’s footprints digging into them would wipe the evidence away. Fortunately, it looked like he hadn’t done it himself on the way up, his prints from both this time and his earlier trip not crossing into the old trail.

            By the time I got to the trail’s highest point, I was starting to get confused. It was at least a third of a mile between where I stopped and here. John couldn’t have covered all this distance slowly and carefully like we had been doing in the twenty seconds I was out. Why had he hurried to suddenly all the way up?

            His tracks went alongside the old ones all the way into another cave. It must’ve been the one he found his book in before, the one with the hollowed out pit. I was slow and careful going in at first, pretty sure that rushing ahead in the dark would put me right over the hole.

            Sure enough, as soon as my eyes adjusted, I found that the entire middle of the cave was gone, a pit straight down. It was about a quarter of the whole room’s area, the rest being rock covered in vines. I followed them all the way up the walls, the plants trailing in through a gap in the ceiling. If it had been closer to noon, sunlight could’ve come right in. I guessed it was just about big enough for someone to fit through, not that anyone in their right minds would come down when they were just over the hole going down to who-knows-where.

            Apparently, the drop wasn’t too frightening for some people. John was sitting right there, legs dangling over the edge. If that wasn’t weird enough, he was staring down into it, not even blinking. I couldn’t tell exactly in the low lighting, but there was a weird sheen over his eyes, a veil of emotion. Was it… sadness?

            “Hey, what are you doing?” I was carefully keeping my voice quiet, afraid a sudden shout would make him jump forward.

            “Thinking, mostly.” His tone was tired and slow, uneasily slow. Someone who was barely in his teens shouldn’t have sounded that worn. He shifted his head down, a slight glare blocking my view of his eyes. A lump formed in my throat, but I wasn’t sure why. All I knew was that I had to get him to back up a bit before something bad happened.

            “Well then, how about you share those thoughts with me. I’ll listen a lot better than some stinking cave, I promise.” He scooted back a little, enough to turn my way. His feet were still stationed over nothing, but the rest of him was on solid ground. I would have to take what blessings I could get.

            A long while passed, but neither of us made a move. I just stood there, waiting for him to start talking. He just sat there, staring at his hands. Every now and then, his head would tilt back towards the pit, but it was never long before his eyes locked back towards his own digits. I gulped, the silence not helping my strange nervousness.

            “Um, I think I found something on the way here. Not a something you would probably like, but…”

            “You mean the tire tracks, yes?” Every word he spoke was more dry and brittle than the last. Even his chuckle was broken down, thin and airy, a mockery of what he should’ve sounded like. “Yes, it would seem we are not alone in being modern explorers of this place. Or perhaps ‘were’ is the better phrasing. You can still see the tracks in here, right?”

            My eyes drifted back to the cave’s mouth, following the thin, hard to see lines leading further and further in. It was about when my eyes crossed a vine that I lost track. I tried reasoning out where the trail went a few time, trying to find out where they led, but it always ended up the same way. It was like the trail just stopped right as they entered…

            “Oh… Oh God…”

            “You see it, too.” I could see his eyes more clearly, and that was definitely sadness. Not teary eyed sadness, the sort you would normally expect. It was more like he was too dried out at this point to follow all the way through. “They came, they saw, they tripped on a vine. Basic physics puts them in only one place.” He was looking down again and leaning forward, like he was about to start scooting closer.

            “It’s almost funny. Someone with such grace and talent as to ride a skateboard up a mountain being swallowed up in an instant. Everything they were or ever would be gone with almost no trace. Everything they had worked for, every dream in their mind’s eye, rendered useless because of one mistake.” A cold sweat formed on the back of my neck. Why was he talking like this? “You told me your dream once, Terry. I’m sorry, but could you tell me again?” I took a step closer, my heart racing as I struggled to speak normally.

            “Yeah, I want to be a great chef. I mean, what makes people happy like a good meal?” Another chuckle.

            “That would make most people happy, wouldn’t it? Fair enough, your company has always been a sort of candle for me.” I would’ve been blushing if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “But then, candles, too, burn away eventually, don’t they? They burn down to the nub, and then they are no more, only the waxy puddle on the floor remaining to tell one was even there at all.”

            “John, what are you talking about?” My heart was pounding harder and harder. I wasn’t sure whether to back away or get closer, the signals in my brain crossing every which way. “Y-you’re scaring me…”

            “I had a chance at leaving something at least a little more substantial here. But no, even with my light at hand, I couldn’t see clearly enough. Here I stand, abandoned by those who gave me life, only cared for by an entity that stands to profit from my existence. If I wasn’t there, another orphan would fill my space, and it would be as though nothing changed at all. I am destined to be lost in the darkness, like so many forgotten before me.” He rose to his feet, slow,unbalanced, like his bones were only air. He looked me in the eyes, any hope that had been there last night drained away, leaving nothing behind.

            “Terry, you’re different. You have a chance at something greater. Leave your mark, be remembered.” Just as his eyes started to water, he turned away, loose posture starting to sway. “You were the one good thing I had. I can’t let you get dragged down with me, so please, forget me. I would only keep you from the limelight you deserve. Farewell.” As soon as he lifted one foot forwards, it struck like lightning.

            I ran forward, every foot feeling like a mile as time slowed down. John’s leg dropped, the rest of him followed. His expression was blank, void of all emotion. His head dipped down out of sight, his torso soon to follow. I lunged forward, arms outstretched. My hand met skin, and I clutched it with everything I was worth. The weight threatened to pull me over, the tips of my feet digging into looser rocks the only things that gave me enough traction to stay on solid ground.

            When time went back to normal, I found myself hanging halfway over the edge, holding onto John by his ankle. He looked up at me, at first in wide eyed surprise, but it soon turned to strained anger, teeth gritting, eyes narrowing.

            “What are you doing!?”

            “Isn’t it obvious, you idiot!? I’m saving my best friend! Just help me haul you up, we can go back to camp, and we can talk about this. There’s no need to…”

            “I’ve already thought it over enough.” At the edge of death, he couldn’t hold anything back anymore, tears streaming down his face, dripping down into the pit. “Like I said, all I can do is take up space. It makes no difference whether I live or die, so why shouldn’t I rest in peace?”

            “There’s nothing peaceful about dying like this!” A soft series of cracks caught me ear. Behind me, the ground I clung to for dear life was starting to give out, my body grinding another inch deeper.

            “Terry, please, you still have potential. If you keep holding on, you’ll die!”

            “And if I let go, you’ll die!”

            “At least then, one of us would go on. You have parents to go home to, friends at school that are waiting to see your smile, a future as bright as the Sun. There are too many people who would miss you. I don’t have anybody. Between the two of us, you’re more important.”

            “No, you’re wrong, you’re not alone. You have…!”

            My heart stopped when, with one final tear, the rock relied on gave way, gravity dragging me down into nothing. With one last push, I spun myself midair, throwing John above me. He didn’t even come close to being able to reach the top again, and that’s assuming he would’ve wanted to, but it was worth a try.

            I tried to yell, but the air left my lungs as soon as I opened my mouth. The force of falling was constricting me, squeezing me until all empty space inside was flattened out. My stomach turned, my lungs burned, and my limbs were locked in place. Above all else, though, was the sudden loss of energy. Maybe it was the lack of air, or my mind dealing with what was about to happen, but I could barely keep my eyes open. As we fell out of range of the light above, my eyes slid shut, and, in my dreary state, I was almost certain that glimpse would be my last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the journey begins again. See what I meant by 'darkest themes yet?' And trust me, I'm far from done. Something about the season of giving fills me with sadistic glee. Maybe it's all the darn annual tunes on repeat from every speaker in the neighborhood.
> 
> "You don't know madness until you've heard Rudolph blaring in your ear for weeks on end."
> 
> Is that what's wrong with you?
> 
> "You should know. I'm just a shattered part of your delusional psyche."
> 
> ...Shut up, Tom.


	3. Shadow of Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know the saying. Every light casts a shadow. What happens when the light begins to dim?

            Everything I could feel was pain. I couldn’t point out where, like a broken limb or torn skin, only the whole body ache. I tried to move a hand to my temple, at least ease the pressure on my head, but it was too heavy. Lifting my arm only made the pain in that shoulder more intense.

            _‘Why do you try to escape?’_ There was a voice. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, only that every word rang like thunder in my ears and echoed through my mind. _‘I would quit now. Humans alone cannot survive this place. Of all who have entered here before, none remain as they were. All that will come of your struggle is imprisonment in hollowed purgatory. Why go so far for a fate that you can get now just by giving in? It would be much easier for everyone if you went back to sleep.’_

Where was here? What place could be as dangerous as the voice described? What did it mean by purgatory? Thinking wouldn’t work, any new thoughts that came to mind only clogging my head further. And yet, I couldn’t just lay down. Something wouldn’t let me rest. There was a word at the very back of my thinking, buried under the haze. I couldn’t tell what it was, but my brain wouldn’t be satisfied until I remembered. But it was so hard, and I was so tired. Maybe a little rest wouldn’t be so…

            “Terry, please, get up…”

            _‘John!’_ That was right, I didn’t fall alone. I wasn’t here, wherever here was, alone. He was somewhere near. If this place was really so dangerous, I couldn’t just leave him to face it on his own. I wouldn’t leave him behind. I _refused._

            I forced my eyes open, powering through the stinging, bright light, focusing on the shaded out, familiar person leaning overhead.

            “Oh thank God, you’re alright!” I was torn out of my slow, groggy state by a pull on my shoulders, hauling me up into a sitting position. My vision was still blurry, but I could at least make his outline out. It was hunched forward and shook slightly, and I heard sharp intakes of breath every few seconds.

            “John, are you…?”

            “What were you thinking!?” I jumped back at the harsh change in voice, but his grip on me was too solid to break away from. “Don’t you know how risky that was? You could have died, damnit!” His anger started rubbing off, spurred on by my already sore body and confusion.

            “And what about you? I dived in to catch you, but what’s your excuse!?”

            “I already told you, I _wanted_ to die! But here I am, sitting in a bed of buttercups with the regret of probably getting my best friend trapped a few thousand feet underground. Do you really think I feel any more lively now!?”

            The moment I felt my teeth grinding on their own accord, I knew it wasn’t the time to be discussing any of this. We were still reeling from the fall, both aching like all Hell, and our shouting match back topside was still fresh in our minds. If we got into something now, the most we would get done was saying something we would both be sorry for.

            “Look, let’s just focus on our immediate concerns. We can talk about living or not later, when we actually know where we are. Does that sound fair?” His outline slowed down, breathing getting deeper and slower, before he managed to nod. “Okay. First off, do either of us have something broken?” As much as I was hurting, I was pretty sure I was still in one piece. My back hurt a little more than the rest, but landing on a frying pan would do that.

            “I suppose you could say that.” His voice was more quiet now, and he gently rubbed a finger over his glasses. I wiped lightly at my eyes, vision clearing up to see that both of his lenses were cracked. A web sprawled out from each eye’s center, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be seeing things clearly enough to get around on his own like that. With them, the image would be all reflected and distorted, but without, things were too fuzzy to make out more than a general idea.

            “Can you see well enough to at least keep track of me?” He nodded. “Alright, we can work with this. I’ll walk ahead, and, just incase, we should keep ahold of each other. If one of us starts straying away, the other will know something’s wrong. Fair enough?” I knew he could see right through me. My plan was about as transparent as they came, but could you blame me? Here I was with someone who was a lucky break away from killing himself in a place neither of us knew. I wasn’t about to get stuck down here all alone or, more importantly, let him die for no good reason, and he knew how persistent I could be, folding in short order.

            “Very well. I’m ready whenever you are, not that I’ve much choice.”

 

-

 

            Wherever we were, it was much more developed than we had originally thought. As soon as we stepped out of that pit, we were met with a huge hall of purple bricks and marble columns. Neither of us had to say it. Even with his impaired vision, he could tell that someone had to have been here once to make all of this. He stayed quiet, and I didn’t feel it was the right mood to explode in excitement. I could save that for when we could see the Sun again. For now, I settled myself with the thought that maybe, now that we found some definitive proof for his theory, he would reconsider his future plans and that he couldn’t try anything with me holding his left hand so tightly behind me.

            We kept walking forward, looking for any signs that we were getting somewhere, but I was drawing a blank. It felt nearly endless, like we would be stuck walking in circles forever. I kept the thought to myself. As comforting as it would’ve been to share my concerns with him, I knew he didn’t need more doubts than he already had.

            _‘It’ll end eventually.’_ My ears perked, eyes darting around to see where that voice came from, before I realized that I had heard it before. _‘But what’s there for you once you find it? Tell me, what drives you, keeps you going?’_

_‘What is it that you want?’_ A wave of pressure rolled through my brain. It wasn’t painful as much as it was dizzying, my pace grinding to a halt.

            “What’s wrong?” I considered telling him about the voice in my head, but the thought didn’t last long. He would never believe me, and it would make him question me as a source of reason if/when I had to talk him down again.

            “Just a little headache. It’s gone now, don’t worry.” I resumed my straight path forward, as if nothing had happened.

            _‘Ah, it’s him then. You’re looking out for him. A sibling, then? Or maybe something more…’_ I didn’t even know if this was actually happening or if it was me suffering brain trauma, but my temper was getting short either way.

_‘That’s my business, not yours.’_

_‘Business, you say? If that’s how it is, what would you say to a deal?’_ Deal? _‘There are some awfully dangerous things down here, waiting around every corner, licking their lips for a chance at taking your heart. His, too. If they find you, they’ll kill you. I know how to stop them, though. So, if you let me borrow your body for a short spell, I could clear a path for you, straight back to the surface. What do you say?’_

_‘Uh, thanks, but I’ll say no for now.’_ Even if it was real, I didn’t know it, and I had no reason to trust it. We didn’t even know if there was anything alive in here, let alone something that wanted to hurt us.

            _‘Alright, suit yourself if you don’t trust me. Here, I’ll just give you a little freebie…’_ Somewhere off to the right, I heard something skitter away. Back to the left, there was a light, kind of muffled series of thuds, like someone walking in slippers. Just a second ago, I could only hear my own breathing, but now…

            _‘How do you like it? I spruced up those flimsy human ears of yours. You can hear them all now, can’t you? No, don’t answer, I know you can. I can hear them, too.’_

_‘Is it just me, or are they getting a little louder?’_ I did my best to keep my face straight and my cool in check, but it was getting harder and harder, the light thuds slowly morphing into heavy crunches, and the skittering sounded like it was cutting through rock. _‘They’re coming, they’ll be here any second.’_ I swung my head around, seeing nothing but brick, but hearing everything else. My heart was racing so fast it hurt. I tugged at the back of my apron, dragging my pan out with my free hand. I could already feel that palm getting sweaty.

            _‘A fighter? Good, we’ll need that spirit. You’ll need it. Now!’_ I hadn’t been looking forward for a while now, bumping shoulder first into something. Something tall, darkly shaded, and somewhat warm. My arm swung out on instinct, the blunt end of the pan swiping through the air. It met with whatever was there with a heavy smack and some tearing, the pan swinging out of the way to reveal nothing but the body of a mannequin. Its head had been swatted right out the door, and I felt more than a little silly.

            “What was there?”

            “Just me being a bigger blind idiot than you, that’s all. I, uh, really need to stop being so nervous.”

            “It would make things markedly easier for you.” My eyes shot to the nearby doorway, that new tone too high and feminine to ever be John. It was too dark to see clearly, but there was definitely someone there, and that someone was _huge_. If I were to stand on John’s shoulders, I might have been on level with her neck, and that was a big maybe. I backed up a ways, pushing John along for his safety, my hands gripping the handle of my pan almost painfully. “Oh my, please, I mean no harm.” Her arms rose slowly, palms open, nothing in hand. I still wasn’t sure if she was hiding anything, at least one finger on each hand out of view.

            “We’ve been having a really rough day. Fall down a pit, almost die, and now there’s someone under a mountain in a forbidden stretch of land where kids die. Excuse us for being just a little suspicious.” Her hands flinched, and I thought I saw the slightest hint of a cringe through the darkness.

            “I suppose that does happen quite a bit in this area. Far too often for my liking. I assure you, with as great a vow as I am able, that I do not mean you, or any other human child, harm.” I didn’t know what, but something about her voice was kind of calming. I could feel my muscles loosening up with every word.

            _‘Toriel told the other four the same thing, more or less. Where do you suppose they are now?’_ The voice in my head had a good point, but still, I felt the need to at least give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it was labeling her with a name. I didn’t even know if mountain hermits had those, let alone what hers would be.

            “Okay, I’m not saying I believe you yet, but denying everything won’t get either of us anywhere. It might be a little easier to trust you if we could actually see you. Take a few steps forward, slowly.”

            She nodded, and, step by step, came towards us. Her movements were slow, measured, constant, and her hands stayed up the whole time. I focused on them specifically, not knowing if she planned to reach for something behind her back when I let my guard down. It was that intense focus that let me see how wrong I was about her hands a second before. As soon as they came into the light, I saw that she only had four fingers in the first place, and those four were covered in white fur.

            My brain went in circles, trying to figure out exactly what I was looking at. Fear only let me turn my eyes inch by inch, trailing down her arm. Her robe looked fancy, loose sleeves as white as her fur and a purple main body, some sort of symbol emblazoned across the chest. When I finally worked up the courage to look her in the eye, I couldn’t help but jump inside at the pair of short horns atop her head and the ears drooping down just over the fronts of her shoulders.

            Her eyes were a deep red, telling me under no uncertain terms that I was standing face to face with something dangerous, and the sharp protrusions from either side of her upper lip were on the same boat. But, blinking, I started to pick up smaller signs, the soft shine from her gaze, the calm, patient smile across her snout, and my shoulders relaxed. The mixed signals weren’t doing me any favors, though, my danger sense and wish to relax pulling me in two very different directions.

            “Terry, your hand.” Oh, I hadn’t even noticed. I must’ve started squeezing too hard when the confusion set in. “I can’t tell, is there something odd I’m not seeing?”

            “You’re not wrong. Definitely not wrong.” I just wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad odd. At this point, all I had were the basic facts. “I think she’s some sort of goat person.”

            “Are you certain your eyes are any better than mine? Perhaps the landing caused hallucinations or delirium…”

            “No, she speaks the truth. I would know, seeing myself in the mirror all these years, and I am fairly certain of my mental health.” She took another step forward, eying John curiously, and I pushed him a step back. “Pardon my asking, but why are you wearing broken glasses? One off center pebble would be enough to shatter them, and I do not believe the stray glass would be all that safe.”

            “I’m afraid all other options are even less desirable. My only pair was broken in the fall, and without them, I might as well not have eyes at all. At least this way I can almost see my friend. Regardless, thank you for the concern, miss, uh, goat.” I could feel the lack of belief in his tone. The goat woman just chuckled.

            “I suppose it is a bit difficult to put your faith in me, my people being locked away from yours for so long. In your position, I would be skeptical, too. If you would be willing to follow me to my home, I may be able to restore your glasses to some degree. You would regain your vision, and I would prove my honesty.” John’s head tilted slightly in thought.

            “I find myself unconvinced. Modern lenses are crafted to perfection by complex machinery designed for their exact purpose. I doubt you have such technology, the rough texture of the brickwork suggesting it was handmade, and the copies I possess are too damaged to tell how they were meant to be. How, then, would you fix entirely fragmented glass?”

            “There is more than one way to salt a snail.” With wide motions for me to track, she lowered her arms, positioning them across her chest so her hands slipped into the opposite sleeve. “You are a smart child, so I believe my lessons would be much appreciated. The first is thus. When it comes to monster kin, one’s will creates a way.”

            Smiling enigmatically, she nudged her head to the hallway behind her. I tugged John’s arm lightly in her direction, a nod the only answer I got. I was still hesitant to trust someone who was, by her own words, a monster, but denying a possibility without proof wasn’t the best way to live. The thought made me remember something, speaking up before she could turn around to lead.

            “Excuse me, but we never got your name.” It took her off guard for a second, but she laughed it off the next.

            “You are correct, and I do not know yours, either. Let us start again.” She extended an open hand our way. “I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.” I reached back, returning the handshake.

            “I’m Terry, and this is John.” Outside, I was collected. Inside, I was screaming silently. That name, Toriel…

            …It was just like the voice said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I missed writing the smooth talker Chara. It makes me feel vicariously slimy and dangerous. Mark my words, I'm going to have fun in any given work Chara's a lead in. And when I have fun, things get grim dark. Merry Christmas, right?
> 
> Speaking of, happy holiday of choice to all readers present! I would list them, but I don't know all of them and heck if I can spell most of the ones I do. I'm an author, not a multi-lingual star child.
> 
> And this sort of rambling is why this site really needs a blog system of some sort. And no, I'm not doing the Twitter or Facebook thing. I don't trust specified social media, and I know none of you can blame me.


	4. Whispers in the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst monsters are the ones that bare friendly faces.

            For a while, I was walking along in a blur. My body was on autopilot, keeping a hold on John and an eye on Toriel. I had lost all feeling in the other hand, nerves going numb from my excessive grip on the frying pan. My logical mind was somewhere else, at a loss for what to think. The voice had predicted her name well ahead of time, and then there was whatever it did to my ears. My hearing was normal now, but the memory of every little sound within a mile was still fresh in my mind.

            _‘Hey, whoever you are, are you still in here?’_ What followed was a good fifteen seconds of nothing. _‘Uh, hello?’_

_‘Oh, you mean me?’_ The shivering spine told me I had the right number, its tone scratching along my ears. _‘You’re the first host in some time to start speaking to me. It’s usually the other way around. Have you reconsidered my offer?’_ I glanced ahead, Toriel’s unassuming posture not nearly threatening enough to make a deal with… whatever it was.

            _‘Actually, I was wondering… who, or what, are you, exactly?’_

            _‘Hmm, you are a curious one. None who came before ever tried becoming so personal.’_ It sounded amused more than anything, like a cat gazing lazily down at a mouse. _‘Very well, as a reward for making things a little more interesting. My name is (^@%@.’_ A pulse ran through my brain, ears ringing like the most clangorous bell. Tears welled up in my eyes.

            “Terry, what’s wrong!?” John was by me as soon as he could, leaning in close to try to get a good look in my eyes. I could feel other eyes staring at me from a ways ahead, too, probably Toriel.

            “Don’t… don’t know. Head’s throbbing, ears burning. Can’t…”

            “It must be some delayed reaction to your landing here.” Toriel’s response was cool, measured, more straight to the point, but a little less warm. “If I am correct, exertion is the last thing you need. I am strong enough to carry you the rest of the distance, but…” I could only blame my so-far cold manners and threats for her hesitation, but before, the voice told me…

            _‘You misunderstand. She’s been wrong, lethally wrong, but she’s dang near harmless. Roll with it for now. It would give us more room to talk.’_ I let my shoulders slump over, making me look as helpless as possible.

            “Sounds… good.” She looked surprised for the faintest of moments, but she was quick and careful in picking me up. Just like she said, all she needed was one arm to hold me in, cradle style. It was warm and welcoming.

            “Pardon, John, but if you still require guidance, I have a free hand to offer.” I didn’t hear any conversation after that, eyes closing to keep the light from making my headache more intense, but the lack of arguing and constant two sets of footsteps told me things were fine.

            _‘Hmm, I should have mentioned how painful my spoken name can be. Such direct exposure to my being doesn’t sit well with mortals. It would be fine if I had an anchored form of my own, but oh well.’_

_‘Gee, thanks for the heads up.’_ Its laughter echoed at the edge of my mind.

            _‘I suppose you’ll need something else to call me, then. All things considered, Avat would be fine.’_ When I got through hearing that one without going into convulsions, I was certain enough that it was safe to say. I decided it was in my best interest to give up on asking what they were. If a name was painful, I could only imagine what their whole story could do to me.

            _‘Alright, Avat, can you tell me what you’re doing in my head?’_ I was cautiously hopeful that it wasn’t too detailed for me to handle.

            _‘Can you tell me what you were doing on my grave?’_ The lump in my throat was almost choking me.

            _‘G…Grave?’_

_‘I was given a resting place in the one part of this Underground that could see the Sun. But my Soul isn’t one to stay down forever. Whenever someone new comes through, it grows curious. How glorious will their death be?’_

_‘Hey, you’re cutting us a little short, aren’t you? What makes you so sure that we’ll die here?’_ Its snickering was dry, the sputters of joy you get from a joke you knew all too well.

            _‘At one time or another, four humans traveled these caverns, as well as myself. First was a boy of unrivaled might, muscle enough to carry the world on his shoulders and a Soul haloed by unquenchable flame. His life ended in the cold, a spear of earth driven through his heart. His little sister lasted even less, withering away to nothing.’_

_‘Next came a light footed girl and a brother that knew no limits. They made it farther than the first two, but it meant very little. Their tomb lies in ever roaring waters.’_

_‘I traveled the length of this place, even doing the impossible, seeing the surface again. But shadow doesn’t surrender its prize so easily, my spirit forever trapped in the dark, the light of day just beyond my reach.’_

            I was lucky I was already off my feet, because I didn’t know if they could hold me after hearing that. Was everything I did from that point on really worthless?

            _‘Why… why did you, everyone, have to die?’_

            _‘It’s just the ebb and flow of war.’_ There was a note of tiredness in Avat’s voice, boredom. _‘These Ruins are distant from the capital city, far enough to be unconnected to the will of the King, but everywhere past is within his power. Countless millennia ago, humans and monsters waged a war of fear. In the end, seven magi gathered, sealing their kind into these caves. Human Souls imprisoned them, and now human Souls can free them. When the King’s men see a human, they kill it, as you would a stray rat in the garage.’_ The way they put it was so cold and brutal. At a second thought, it made me question the person carrying me.

            _‘What would happen if Toriel found out? Would she…’_

_‘Oh, she already knows what Asgore wants all too well.’_ The urge to scream was a hard one to fight. _‘As I said, she’s harmless. Five times over did one who should be an enemy come into her care. Five times over did she refute that fate, acting as a guardian. Five times did her promises fall, the bodies mounting ever higher. At this rate, they may very well be Asgore’s staircase to the surface. From there on out, I’ve no promises what he would do next. His people follow his will so long as they are able, and if his will is to wage war, well…’_

_‘There wouldn’t be anything we could do to stop them.’_ I didn’t know how strong monsters were, but the point stood that no one knew they were here. Thinking now, that ancient culture John and I were hunting was right in front of us, still alive. That’s why the mountain was feared; it was like the door of a vault or a tombstone, a sign saying “Come at your own risk.” But John and I were the only ones who could figure it out. Everyone else just had a bad feeling, nothing more. If they got free, and, from there, wanted to keep fighting, it would be a surprise attack. By the time the army was rounded up, the whole countryside would be stripped clean. _‘What should I do? If we stay, we’ll be stuck underground, hiding near people who want us dead. If we try to leave, we might run into even more of them, maybe getting thousands of people killed.’_

_‘Hmm, how about this. I know a secret way you two can get back up top.’_ I knew better than to celebrate just yet. These things always came with a catch. _‘In exchange…’_ Called it.

            “Wake up, child, we are here.” Before they could finish their thought, I felt a hand on my forehead. The fluffy feeling told me who it was. I opened my eyes, cringing at the bright light, my head still dully aching. “How do you feel?”

            “…Better. Still hurts, but better.” I looked up, seeing the thoughtful spark in her eyes.

            “I believe I know something that could restore your strength, but it will take a while to prepare. In the meantime, I recommend you rest. Both of you. One does not survive a great ordeal without growing tired.” A yawn forced its way out at the thought of actual sleep, the most direct answer I could give. “I have a spare room for just such an occasion. Do not fret, there are two beds, enough for you both.”

            As she talked, the lights got a little darker. I had to blink a few times to realize we had changed rooms, slipping from some sort of hallway into what looked like a little kid’s bedroom. Actually, it was probably more than one, two beds backed into opposite corners. I didn’t know why, but I felt a yearning for the one on the right. As luck would have it, that’s the one she set me down in, lifting the covers for me to slip under.

            “Try not to move too much. It would not help you in the least. It has been more than a few hours without issue beyond tiredness, so I am reasonably certain there is no critical damage to your head. Just incase, I will be swift with your remedy. I promise, you will be safe under my roof.” I wasn’t sure who she was trying to comfort with her assurances, me, John, or herself. Possibly all three. As much as I was sure she meant what she said, Avat’s warning made the fine print clear to me. Her roof only went out so far. At least it was safe here, and the bed was cozy. It made it hard to resist sleep.

            “Your bed is right here, John. Here, let me see your glasses, I may be able to do something about them while you…” My focus on them started to wane as my eyes drifted closed. My body was all but asleep when I heard Avat again.

            _‘As I was saying, my information will come at a price. I will tell you how to get back home, but, in exchange, you must not tell anyone I’m here. They might see me as some abnormality in your brain and try to ‘cure’ me. That wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone, now would it?’_ I would have thought on it, but I didn’t have that kind of energy. It seemed fair enough, though…

            _‘…Deal.’_ I heard its short chuckles echo through my quickly fading thoughts.

            _‘Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain as soon as you’re well enough to hear me out and remember. I expect you to uphold yours. Until then, sweet dreams!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to release this a few days ago, but I just got my hands on Pokémon Moon and...
> 
> Actually, that should explain it plenty. Chapter 5 won't take nearly as long, promise.
> 
> (By the way, fellow Pokémon fans, am I the only one here who loves Salazzle's unique, risky poisoning strategy? It's a fun break from Snorlax nuking everything with the broad side of his belly.)


	5. New Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One can only see so much through their own eyes. Sometimes, what you find through someone else's can leave you breathless.

            I was slower than usual when I woke up. My arms and legs still worked, but as soon as I tried putting pressure on them, the bones started shaking too much to support me, falling back to the mattress with a thud. On top of that, my brain was still swimming in circles from the close encounter yesterday. How could a name hurt so much?

            Even after a full night’s sleep, I didn’t know exactly what to think of Avat. It was like they cared, but they didn’t care, a kid watching someone else play a game. This kid, though, was absolutely certain I’d lose, and they weren’t afraid to tell me as much. Still, they had played the ‘game’ before. Any information they gave me was probably gained first hand, making them my best chance of getting John and me out alive. I just had to find a way to make them more loose lipped about it…

            “Are you awake?” His voice was quiet, probably incase he was wrong, but I could still recognize John well enough.

            “Yeah.” My throat was like sandpaper, dry and rough, but I could still talk.

            “How’s your head?” Even though he knew I was awake now, he still kept the volume down. Was he thinking about something?

            “Dizzy, but better than yesterday. I’ll be okay.” Seconds turned to minutes without anyone talking. I tried looking over his way, but turning my head was harder than I’d hoped, and all I saw anyway was the back of his head.

            “Probably wouldn’t have to to deal with injuries like yours if you had stayed away from that pit, you know.” A spark of anger lit up in my chest, but I held it back, hoping a more civil talk would work better.

            “Your glasses wouldn’t be broken, either.” He didn’t respond, my comeback telling him my thoughts on the matter. I guess I had to press on. “Why did you do that? You’re smarter than any two people I’ve ever met put together, so why’d you do something so stupid?” A tense few seconds passed.

            “…Maybe it’s because I’m smart.” His answer was nothing short of perplexing. I gave him a little longer to start explaining. “Have you ever looked around you, I mean, looked as hard as you could, but failed to find anything worthwhile? Anything that struck you as important?”

            “We’ve all had tough times. One bad day isn’t a reason to…”

            “It wasn’t just one day!” His quiet voice adopted a harsh edge. “It’s a lot of days, every single one that I can recall. Day in, day out, my whole life only amounting to a few more ticks on Sunnyside’s check. You wouldn’t know how it is. You have great, loving parents.” My heart ached at the thought. They were probably getting worried by now, wondering where I went. “I don’t even know what my parents look like. They dropped me in the orphanage when I was too young to remember. All I have looking out for me is a caretaker that seems to change out every other year.”

            “Being one of thirty children without a real home puts things in bleak perspective. Some of them were there because their real families were dead. Others because they were unfit to raise a child. I’m the only oddity, the one whose parents willingly handed them over. That’s all I have instead of parents, the vague memory of them nonverbally telling me, “You’re not worth our time.”

            “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe they didn’t have the money to raise you, or the neighborhood they lived in was dangerous, or…”

            “No. The few accounts I’ve been able to find of them lists the people who signed me over as well off. One of them was in a goose down coat, the other in a silken suit. They had more than enough funds to support me. The only logical conclusion to all of this is that they simply didn’t care enough to bother beyond the nearest establishment to be rid of me.” His tone was bitter, spiteful.

            “I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove my worth. I study harder than any of the other children. I pursue knowledge in my free time instead of the toys we’re allowed. I could run mental circles around any of them without batting an eye because of years of constant, grueling effort. Do you now what I get for all the trouble? The same unseasoned porridge as the rest of them. Nothing I’ve done in my whole life has amounted to anything. I might as well have been chasing my own nonexistent tail for all the good it did.” I was about to cut in with some sort of support, but he was quicker to the draw.

            “I had figured that this lead would be my chance, a way to make a name for myself beyond Johnathon the Orphan. If I could just find something tangible to prove my theories right, it would mean my life thus far had some meaning. But there was nothing more for me on that mountain.” There was a hiccup in his rant, and it sounded like he was talking through convulsions. I struggled to throw the blankets off.

            “Do you know the ironic part? Here we are in the middle the proof I needed, a hidden culture underground, an even bigger find than I had intended, but I’m left without a way to prove it. Still going in circles, still without gain. I have nothing…”

            “No, you’re wrong.” He jumped, not expecting my hand on his shoulder. I rolled him over to face me, his watering eyes meeting mine. He squinted slightly, but I knew he could tell who was there. “You do have something, me. I care about you. Do you think I would’ve put myself in danger like that to try saving you if I didn’t?” I was shaking like a leaf, but not because of my injuries.

            “John, I… I…” He stared at me, eyes wide open. I swallowed the lump in my throat, about to finish the sentence, but the squeak of the door behind me stole the air from my lungs.

            “I heard crying, is something…” Toriel looked on edge, eyes scanning the room for some sort of danger. All she found was me out of bed, cheeks dabbed by tears. From the way her brow dropped slightly, I got the feeling that she didn’t like that much better. “Why are you out of bed, child? You will make your wounds worse.”

            “Apologies, Miss Toriel, I’m afraid it’s my fault.” John’s firm faced composure was back, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I had a rather intense nightmare, though I fail to recall what about. Terry must have forced herself over here to try waking me up. I’ll be fine in just a minute.” Toriel’s eyes softened, letting out a relieved sigh.

            “While I can’t condone such a hastily made decision, I do understand. Fortunately, the remedy I spoke of earlier is ready. I will be back with it in a moment. Can you return to bed by yourself or should I help you?” I got back up on my feet. They were sore and trembling, but at least I could stand.

            “I’ll be alright. You go on ahead.” She looked me over for a moment, but relented with a nod. She left the doorframe as quickly as she came, leaving us on our own. I glanced at John, lightly chewing my lower lip. I wanted to finish what I was saying before, but the mood was thrown for a loop, and I wasn’t sure we had enough time…

            “You should get back to bed before Miss Toriel returns. If we’re to be her guests, we should respect her rules.” I nodded, deciding it was for the best that I waited a little longer, at least until we had some privacy. I had my covers back on by the time Toriel came, carrying a heavy looking pan, as wide as she was, covered in tin foil. A pair of plates and forks were precariously balanced on top.

            “One serving should be enough to mend your injuries, though you may take more if you so choose. It is best you both get ample nutrition after your ordeal.” She set her stack down on the nightstand between our beds, lifting a corner of the foil. A wave of scents washed over the room, but the most distinct was of warm cinnamon. When the cover was off, I could clearly make out the monstrously sized pie beneath, my stomach growling like a starved dog. She smiled at the nonverbal compliment.

            “Um, not that I don’t appreciate it, but what can pie do for a headache?” John’s left brow lifted, apparently just as confused as me. Toriel smiled knowingly.

            “I will only say that we monsters have rather… unique cuisine.” John’s expression flattened in short order.

            “Yes, monsters, of course.”

            “Oh, that reminds me, here.” From a pocket hidden in the folds of her robe, Toriel pulled out a pair of glasses. I could tell they were John’s from the cracks running through the lenses, but they looked a little less distinct, and the glass seemed to gleam a bit more in the light.

            The moment he put them on, his eyes were as wide as the plate Toriel put on his lap, eyes tracing the curve of her muzzle and horns. He slid his glasses up long enough to wipe his eyes, but the image he saw was still the same. I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

            “I tried to tell you, didn’t I?” His response was a lot less verbose than usual, more like a fish sputtering in the sand. He sat there, stunned, as she slid a piece of pie onto his plate, gently sticking a fork into the top. I was almost sure that one slice would count as a full pie at any human bakery.

            “I do hope you enjoy. I have been working on this butterscotch cinnamon recipe for many years. It should take the edge off whatever aches you are feeling.” I watched for a few more seconds as he grabbed numbly for the fork before I felt the extra weight on my lap. It was even more imposing from up close, but that sweet, sugar tinged scent made my hunger all the more apparent.

            I didn’t have nearly as many doubts as John, quickly slipping a piece between my lips. As soon as it touched my tongue, I could feel the love behind it. The crust itself was soft enough to be flakey but not so soft that it fell apart at the slightest nudge. When it did break open, I found the savory butterscotch and slight punch of cinnamon to be fine compliments, the contrast highlighting the best aspects of each ingredient. It was served at the perfect temperature, too, that fresh from the oven warmth only making the experience better. If this was supposed to be monster medicine, I was almost afraid to ask what a genuine meal was like.

            I swallowed, and I could feel something was off. The lump in my throat seemed to fade away, some sort of gas taking its place as it drifted down my esophagus. That warmth I had so cherished felt like it was spreading through my veins, soothing the muscles as it went. I shivered when the wave reached my head, running through the circuits of my brain, and when it left, it was like the pain had been purged. If anything, I felt even better than before the fall. In my wide eyed wonder, I tried to think of something equally incredible to say, to convey just how amazed I was.

            “Wow…” That, however, was all I could actually get out. Well, if I couldn’t add anything to the conversation, I might as well do something worthwhile with my mouth. Namely, stuffing it with another chunk of pie. I could barely suppress the shivers.

            “I take it you are pleased?” Somehow, the small sense of menace I picked up from Toriel’s red eyes had completely vanished, buried by a burgeoning growth of admiration.

            “It’s… it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” She took the compliment in stride, nodding with her calm smile. John, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, taking off what looked like his first bite. As soon as his lips closed around it, his eyes shot open, and I could almost vicariously feel that tingling sensation on the tongue.

            His throat bulged as he swallowed, and his expression shifted slightly. Wide eyed shock turned to intense focus. He shoveled another forkful in, but this time, he placed two fingers on the base of his neck.

            “Um, what are you…?” Toriel’s questioning went ignored, his attention entirely on the mass in his mouth. He swallowed, and I almost expected the lump of food to get partially stopped, fingers suddenly pressing half an inch into his soft flesh, the area turning a harsh red. His eyes watered a little, understandably so considering he was jamming fingers into his throat, but his focus was still sharp. The dropping bulge in his neck barely missed a beat, flowing around the intrusion like a skin based balloon. His hand slowly lowered, two red, slowly leaking cuts a centimeter long left behind.

            “What was…?” Toriel was on him in moments, a small towel dabbing at the marks on his neck.

            “What are you doing, John? Do you not realize how severely you could have hurt yourself?” I flinched away, her concern getting a little too… extreme, almost angry.

            “You said monster cuisine was unique, but there’s more to it. Food does not just become gaseous at a moment’s notice.” Her tension released a little, shoulders sagging.

            “There are better ways to find answers than risking yourself. In this instance, asking me, the chef, before nearly puncturing your own throat. If your nails had been even a small bit sharper…” She shook her head, the rough idea she was getting too unsettling to hold on to. “I can tell you why, so please, do not do that again.” He wilted a little under her gaze, unsure if he wanted to look her in the eye as he nodded.

            “Okay, thank you. Now then, what you just experienced was a form of tangential magic.” John’s lingering doubts went up in smoke, all eyes firmly on Toriel. “Monster craftsmen of all kinds benefit from the passive ability to imbue their natural magic into their creations. Well made monster food, for example, can dissolve as soon as it enters a body that can receive it, directly transferring the energy of the item into the consumer. This also carries the nutrients to specific areas where they may be needed, such as open wounds.” I kept glancing back and forth from her explaining to John taking it all in. If I knew him as well as I thought I did…

            “Magic?”

            …I knew such a vague idea wouldn’t fly.

            “Ah, I had almost forgotten. Most humans would equate the term to illusionary performances these days, yes?”

            “But the magic you present is more tangible. No slide of hand could replicate the disintegration of food when it’s already inside someone.”

            “Or, if it could, I would be quite impressed with the performer.” Toriel chuckled to herself, but John was a little too in the zone to register humor. “I have not seen the surface in countless ages, but I believe I’ve pieced enough together over the years to explain. As far as I am able to tell, your farthest reaching ancestors, from when monsters inhabited the surface, appropriated the term we used to describe our natural abilities, granting it as a title to their own physical mimicries. Over the generations, the precise origin seems to have been lost to you, or possibly willfully forgotten, creating the idea that magic is only illusion instead of rooted in something quite real. Of course, it is only a theory…”

            “…No, it makes quite a bit of sense.” I could almost see him organizing the new information away, eyes twitching to and fro. “Historically, humans have bent ideas to suit their own purposes. Thanksgiving is viewed as a time of gratitude when, in reality, the genocide between races spat in the face of generosity. Christmas was originally a pagan festival, but later monotheistic cultures turned it into a celebration of their own God, or at least a disciple thereof depending on the faction. If humans can take their own ideas so far out of context through ill will or ignorance, I have no problems believing our ancestors could do the same to another species altogether.” He nodded with a huff, satisfied with the solidity of his findings.

            “Though that still leaves one hole to fill. One would think the existence of real monsters would be well documented, but, in all my years of research, I’ve only ever heard one reference to your culture, and even it was an oral tradition so vague that it had lost the mention of monsters altogether, exchanging it with an unexplained warning.”

            “Wait, that’s it!” He turned to me in surprise, so absorbed by his thinking that he forgot where he was. “It sounds like the split happened a long time ago. Writing was a thing, but it was still an ancient human culture at the time, right? Well, don’t most old cultures have a tradition of oral storytelling?” John nodded, eyes starting to open up as the understanding set in. “And a lot of those old, word of mouth stories…”

            “…Are tales of fantastical creatures!” His eyes lit up as the dots were connected. “Wendigos, the Mothman, Kappas, dragons, all creatures based in ancient legends gifted with superhuman abilities. It’s possible that they all originated from tales they told of your people, but time degraded them from historical fact to stories. They were degraded because of the original tradition of oral storytelling creating a massive game of Telephone, and so many were granted mystical properties because they were based on a people that inherently possessed them!”

            That sparkle in his eye was something I had been sorely missing. It was refreshing to not see doom and gloom looking him, only the raw zeal that made him so charming in the first place. He turned to me, smiling brightly.

            “Terry, you can be a genius in your own rights more often than some would credit you for.” My heart skipped a beat, and I had the sudden urge to look in some far off corner, but that would just make what I was feeling more obvious. I laughed casually, though, admittedly, a little too nervously for my liking, and shrugged.

            “Oh please, you probably would’ve figured it out soon enough without me…”

            “You never know. I mean…” His posture deflated for a second, a hint of shame tinging the edge of his joy. “…I’ve been rather shortsighted as of late. Thankfully I have someone like you to help with my blindspots, right?” I knew he was trying to be humble, hinting that he learned his lesson without tipping Toriel off to too much personal junk, but he had no idea how much like pudding my limbs were at that point. If I had tried to respond, it would’ve come out like someone threw a few vowels in the blender.

            “In my experience, a dear friend is invaluable in our darkest moments.” Thank God Toriel was better at the talking thing than me, otherwise it might’ve gotten awkward. “One should not be afraid to lean on another for support. If you are to recall anything from today, let it be this, okay?” John nodded, and I couldn’t help but giggle. Him forget something? Not recognizing it in the first place, maybe, but he never forgot a message after it got through. A sudden ding cut into the conversation.

            “Oh! Pardon me, children, I should go make sure nothing overcooked while I was away.” She set the massive pie on top of the shelves between our beds, the wood squeaking uncomfortably, but still holding together. “I will give you some privacy to enjoy your breakfast. As I said before, take as much as you like.” She hurried out the door, only slowing down to keep it from slamming closed. Her footsteps got quieter and quieter as she got farther away.

            That left John and me alone. You’d think we’d have plenty to talk about, but a weird silence persisted. It wasn’t as tense as when we first woke up, but I still didn’t like it. I guess the feeling there was more awkward than anything.

            I knew what I wanted to say, or, more specifically, finish saying, but now that the moment had come and gone, I found myself without any wind in my sails. The appreciative way he looked at me just a minute before was a good sign, but that almost made it harder, like an extra blanket of pressure that demanded I said the next bit perfectly or it would strangle me like a big, fluffy snake. Where should I even start…

            “Um, Terry?” I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to force myself into a casual mindset.

            “Yeah, ‘sup?” And I sounded like a half drunk squeaky toy. Not the type of casual I wanted.

            “It’s about earlier, before Toriel came in.” And there was the cat that ran off with my tongue. He was going to ask for me to finish and I had no idea how to… “You said you care about me, enough to risk your life. Why?” …Okay. Not what I was expecting, but hey, gift horses and all that.

            “Well, there are a lot of reasons. I already said how smart you are. I mean, I’m no dummy by any means…”

            “Not by a long shot.” I hoped like all heck I wasn’t blushing, but my cheeks were warming up, so that wasn’t likely.

            “…but you know so much that chats are always interesting. Remember that time you told me about stomach mucus?”

            “You mean how it’s the only reason you have a stomach at all?”

            “Yeah, that. What are the chances I’d learn something as off-the-wall as that without you around to tell me?” It was a little off-putting, but interesting enough to make up for it. “That leads me right into how passionate you can be. I don’t know anyone else who would actually be excited about getting a book instead of toys or candy, but it means you care about what you put in your head. Just the way you light up when you find something new, it’s impressive. And kind of adorable if I’m being honest.” I should’ve been embarrassed to say it openly like that, but the floodgates were open, and I was just along for the ride.

            “I swear, you can just keep going, too. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come to school with bags under your eyes from staying up so late researching, yet you’re still nose deep in papers instead of totally zoning out like most people would.”

            “And, well, I still don’t like how you think of yourself, but it took you until now to do anything negative about it. I can’t even imagine what kind of willpower it took to just keep standing up for how many years with all of that bottled up. You could’ve handled it a whole lot better. In fact, it was kind of dumb not to let anyone in until the very last second, but it’s still a little inspiring when you look at it in the right light.”

            “After all of that, it would be more surprising if I didn’t love you…” My mouth clamped shut as soon as it left, just a second too late. I felt like a loose lipped blabber mouth and probably looked like a chili pepper. I was starting to sweat like I just ate one, too.

            “Terry, you…?” I flipped over onto my side to face the wall. I was jittering like an aqua phobic dolphin. Part of me was trying to push me the other way, face him like a confident, outstanding woman, but the rest was battening down the hatches and praying for it all to blow over.

            I deflated when I heard his covers get pushed off. He was probably leaving the room to get out of the awkward atmosphere I let loose. Way to go, Terry, you came on way too strong without enough backbone to support it. At least, that’s what I was thinking until I felt the blankets behind me lift up. Then the bed flattened under extra pressure from that side, and I locked up like a frostbitten statue.

            “W-wait, is this what I’m supposed to…? Oh man, why do I have to be so bad at this?” Curious, I turned my head enough to look behind me, and I saw John, one leg up on the bed to pull him into the opening the lifted blanket left behind. His face was lit up like a strawberry, a hair darker than me. He looked like he was in the middle of a game of tug-of-war, one team pulling him towards each bed. I giggled, letting go of enough tension to throw my lot in.

            “Come here, you big dork!” I rolled over, quickly grabbing his arm and pulling it in before either of us could lose the nerve again. I wasn’t making that mistake twice. I wrapped an arm around each of his sides, hands lightly meeting around his back. His muscles were all tense for a while, but he got used to it eventually, calming down as he got used to the extra warmth curled up against his chest.

            I shouldn’t make fun of him too much for being nervous, though. I wasn’t too far away from locking up again when he returned the favor, draping an arm over my shoulder. I fought it down, though, the feeling of finally getting everything off my chest and my head against his chest too great to fight. I kicked myself for not spilling the beans sooner, for many reasons.

            “I love you.” Even with his quiet, still touchy voice, his body vibrated like the best massage chair/full body pillow ever. It was challenging, but I resisted melting into a puddle of goo long enough to respond.

            “I love you, too.”

            Things were quiet again after that, but, this time, I didn’t mind. The person I loved was in my arms, and I was in his. It might sound corny, but I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave. We had to eventually, food and bathroom breaks after all, but I was holding on as long as I could.

            Dangerous monster kings, shady spirits, and dead drops to nothing be damned; I was cuddling with my man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have shipping! Code pink, people, the ship has sailed...!
> 
> Wait, is it shipping if the characters are, like, 85% OC? Anyone with some insight on the matter around here? I'm a bit of a land lubber if you catch my drift.


	6. Deeper Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how bright your lantern, it cannot illuminate all corners.

            At the edge of my consciousness, I thought I heard something creaking, but I wasn’t too sure. A strong light creeped across my closed eyes, piercing through the eyelids and directly into my retinas. Annoyed and groggy, I curled a little harder into the pillow in front of me, burrowing my face into it and away from the evil light.

            _‘Huh, that’s weird. Lot more solid than I remember. And…’_ I sniffed, lazily noting the scent. _‘Cinnamon?’_ It was about when I felt its surface rising and falling that I realized it wasn’t a pillow.

            One eye tentatively peeled itself open, but most of its field of view was taken up by a purple sweater. I smiled to myself, relishing in the warm feelings both in my chest and over most of my skin. It was a little sweaty, the heat of two bodies effectively making the inside of our blanket into a sauna, but I couldn’t think of anywhere I would’ve rather been.

            John’s arm tightened around me, closing the little bit of space I made between me and it by scooting in closer, and his right side moved far enough out of the way to see to rest of the room. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed the white fur almost glowing in the sliver of light slipping in from the doorway. For a split second, I saw Toriel smiling gently at us, one hand over her heart.

            As soon as she saw me looking at her, though, she hurried out of the room, oddly quiet for someone of her size. Before she closed the door, she winked at me, leaving just in time to miss me turning beet red. I struggled to bury my head in the space between John and our mattress.

            “Mmm, Terry? Something wrong?” His speech was still half asleep, but the way he was rubbing my back told me he was plenty conscious of his environment.

            “Good news, I guess we don’t need to break any news to Toriel.” He accepted it with a noncommittal hum, but, looking back up at him, I could see the gears in his head turning. The combination of him just waking up and my voice being muffled by bed must’ve made it hard to recognize what he was hearing. I figured he finally got it when the back rub stopped.

            “She was in here, wasn’t she?” I nodded into his chest.

            “Looked like she was picking up the pie.”

            “Did you notice her reaction?” It looked like his mind was already trying to piece the situation together. Well, it was more than I could do.

            “You know how rocking chair grannies smile when they see something they remember from back in the day?” The light chuckle told me yes. “Oh, and she was holding a hand over her heart, if that helps at all.”

            “Ah, I see.” His voice slipped back into being half drowsy. “She doesn’t seem the type to needle people in relationships too much, so we should be alright.” I had my doubts, but hey, I was still way too out of it to worry. The only thing I could register was a faint longing at the back of my mind. It was a little embarrassing, but I was already cuddling with him, so…

            “…Could you keep rubbing my back?”

            “Hmm? You mean like this?” His fingers worked smoothly along my muscles. Not so soft that it might as well have been nothing, but not so hard that it dug into my skin. It was at that point that my transformation into a glob of putty was complete. “I saw it on some movie a few years ago. Is it really…?” I answered with a content hum. It was all the asking he needed to keep going, the comfortable silence going on for what felt like hours.

            I now knew what the average house cat felt like.

 

-

 

            It was already about noon-thirty by the time we managed to rip ourselves out of bed. The world outside our blanket was a little chillier than I remembered, but a few hours spent at human body temperature tended to do that.

            As my legs got used to being solid again and my muscles popped one after another, I couldn’t help but notice how suddenly great I felt. Not only was all the pain from yesterday gone, but I could’ve sworn I was floating with each step, like gravity couldn’t hold me down as easily. I vaguely remembered one of John’s research binges when he explained how the brain released chemicals that overall improved health when it felt love. Heck if I could remember exact names and whatnot, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the weird rush of energy I was getting.

            We stepped out into the hallway, where I remembered I hadn’t really gotten a good look at the place on the way in. The color palette was bright, walls of orange and floor boards of yellow, each individual plank seeming to shine like the side of a jewel. A few shelves dotted the walls here and there, most dominantly a bookshelf about halfway through, but there was no doubting the center of attention was the greenery.

            We couldn’t go three steps without passing some type of plant. Cattails, little potted trees, even a cactus. Far and away the most numerous, though, were the buttercups, each even brighter than the floor beneath them. They looked a lot younger than the other plants, probably just sprouting a couple of weeks ago, at most, and, looking closer, a lot of the pots they were in had scorch marks near the top. Had there been a fire?

            The color scheme changed slightly when we crossed into the entryway, the walls and floor turning different shades of tan, though the plant theme persisted with yellow blooms in the corners. To the right, a wide staircase led down into what was probably a basement. To the left, inside a square alcove, was the door heading outside (relatively speaking.) Toriel was there, skimming through a brown paper bag hanging from her arm. It took her until she was done checking to see us.

            “Oh, good morning again! I take it you slept well?” A cough pushed itself out involuntarily, and my eyes looked anywhere but directly at her. A sideways glance at her playful smile was enough.

            “As a matter of fact, yes. I must say, the beds here are a great deal more comfortable than those at Sunnyside.” Either he didn’t see what she was implying or didn’t care, answering as matter-of-fact as was Johnly possible. I, on the other hand, wanted to steer the conversation somewhere else.

            “Were you heading out?” Her expression went back to the normal content smile, much to my relief.

            “Yes, actually. I make it a point to travel to the furthest depths of the Ruins at least once a year. I was on my way there yesterday when I found you, but, at the time, I felt leading you to safety was far more important.” I felt a seed of guilt starting to sprout, our accident making her postpone some sort of tradition. And, all the while, I was a twitch away from attacking her with a frying pan. There are times when you can’t help but hate yourself a little, and this was one of them.

            “Um, sorry about that…”

            “It is fine, truly.” She waved it off, literally, with a nonchalant wipe of the hand. “I would be remorse to leave someone in need of aid out in the cold, let alone two children. Besides, by some spurt of shortsightedness, I had forgotten to bring along an offering. Is it not funny how accidents play out sometimes?” She chuckled lightly, and I could kind of understand. I glanced over to John, who was, weirdly, doing the same at me. The text was so clear, even the half blind could see it.

            “Still, we do owe you a lot for what you’ve done for us.” John pushed his glasses back up by the bridge. “Would you like some company on your walk?” She seemed genuinely surprised at the offer.

            “You do not mind being near such a silly old woman?”

            “Not at all. In my experience, the eldest among us have the most insightful commentary. Besides, I’m afraid I wasn’t able to get a decent look at what I suppose will be our neighborhood for the foreseeable future the first time around. A second trip should help us become more familiar and comfortable with our surroundings.” I could almost see Toriel’s spirits raising as he explained.

            “Well then, far be it from me to deny such a reasonable request. I would be delighted to show you the way!”

 

-

 

            Two things stood out to me on our second trip through those tunnels. First, it was a lot more like a cheesy adventure movie than I remembered. And by that, I mean traps, traps everywhere. Well, more puzzles than traps I guess, but I would’ve only been mildly surprised if a big rolling boulder dropped out of nowhere to chase us.

            Toriel explained that she had been through the day before yesterday for a shopping trip and how the Ruins’ defense system had a twenty-four hour delay before reactivating, hence why we didn’t see any before. It was odd and confusing, but I stopped asking about it around the third time we looped through what was apparently the exact same room. Toriel was nice enough to solve them for us, so I let myself get numb to them after a while.

            The other point of interest was the sudden swell of denizens. It wasn’t thickly populated by any means, but going from absolutely nothing to groups of two or three every ten minutes was still a startling increase. They came in all shapes and sizes, some that I couldn’t wrap my head around being a sentient living thing. How often do you see mold groups that respond like a lethargic, mute dog? I didn’t even want to start thinking about the large, carrot-like ones for fear of seriously questioning all future soup recipes.

            Eventually, we came to a room that was empty aside from two rectangular openings in the right wall and the spikes blocking the doorway forward. The dirt was a dark purple, offset by six patches of lighter soils arranged three per side. To our surprise, Toriel quickly grabbed both of us by the wrist, leading us to the center of the room.

            “Pardon the intrusion, but this place has been a site for rather… unpleasant experiences in the past. Please, do not move too far from this spot until I return, and stay away from the lighter sections of floor. This should be but a moment.” Before we could prod at all about it, she hurried to the center patch on the right, the floor falling out beneath her. It was only the fact that she looked like she knew what she was doing that kept me from freaking out.

            “Hey, John, what do you think she meant by that?” My answer was silence. I had only one guess for why, and, turning towards him, I found out I was completely right. He had pulled the heavy, dirty book out and was going through its pages. Strangely, his look wasn’t one of deep thought or confusion like you would expect dealing with the illegible, rune based writing style. Instead, his eyes were wide, glancing back and forth across the text wildly. “What are you…?”

            A loud croak interrupted me, the sound echoing in my ears for some time. In the door behind us, there was a frog about half my size with some sort of cloth draped around its neck. Three upwards triangles pointed from its neck to its wide, unblinking eyes, which were in turn locked on John’s book. It was hard to say what was going through its head from its blank, unexpressive face, but I was certain it wasn’t happy.

            John turned the page, coughing as a cloud of dust puffed out. Annoyed, he quickly, though carefully for the sake of the old, probably brittle paper, wiped what was left of the offending powder off.

            The frog’s whole disposition changed. Its face was still as blank as fresh paper, but its figure hunched over, and its mouth trembled like it was stiffly muttering to itself. Before I could warn him, its eyes flashed, a cross of light sparking from each, before its mouth opened wide. From the dark of its throat, a swarm of white flies burst forward, individual bugs the size of bullets coming together to make a conglomerative cannonball. I only just managed to drop under it. John, as preoccupied as he was, didn’t have as much luck, the shot taking him by surprise as it hit him directly in the back. His eyes bulged as the wind was knocked out of him, the impact laying him flat on his face.

            “John!” I didn’t consider myself a violent person. I always tried to be the nice one, the girl that tried to broker peace when things went wrong, but in that moment, I found myself grabbing for the frying pan strapped to my waist before my conscious mind could catch up. I held it up with both hands, legs spreading to give me a better stance and to make myself look more imposing. I didn’t know how I knew to do that, but the automatic instinct was too strong to resist.

            _‘Wait, what am I doing? I don’t know how to fight!’_ It was obvious enough that hitting someone in the face with a metal pan would disable them, but this wasn’t a normal person. It was a frog that shot bug based projectiles! The only reason I wasn’t on the ground like John was because it was being slow and careful in its approach. Without the atmosphere of the standoff, this thing would magically bulldozer over me in a heartbeat.

            _‘Are you serious?’_ My head buzzed, Avat’s voice once again creeping through my brain. They sounded incredulous. _‘You plan on surviving the long haul down here, but you can’t even take on a simple Froggit?’_

_‘You call this thing simple!? It shoots balls of…!’_

_‘I know that! But I also know it can only muster up that kind of firepower when it has breathing room. Get close range and it’ll switch to a more widespread, but weaker fighting style. It’s more likely to hit, but less likely to be a one shot. Hurry, before it catches its breath.’_

            Hesitantly, I took a step forward. Its eyes widened a fraction of an inch. When I took another, it gulped inaudibly. It was getting nervous.

            _‘Told you. They’re only good from more than ten feet away, like sniping with a cannon. Get close, though, and they crack easily. And I mean that it more ways than one.’_ I felt that spine tingling presence pass through my wrists, almost evaluating the weight they were holding up. _‘I’d say one swing will permanently remove the problem.’_ I struggled to hide the shock.

            _‘Are you saying… I should kill it? But it’s, I…’_ They were telling me yes along with my ever controlling instincts, but my brain was telling me no. I wasn’t a combatant, let alone a killer. I was a chef! My pan was for cooking, not bleeding.

            _‘Oh, alright then. I guess you plan on standing here like a mildly intimidating statue while your boyfriend gets buzzed.’_ My teeth pressed together painfully. _‘If I’m seeing things right, and I have damn good eyes for the record, he’s only got one more hit in him, too. It’s like advanced Russian Roulette. Someone’s going to die here, and it’s up to you to say which barrel has the bullet. So what’ll it be, the puny frog or your precious John?’_

            My hands tightened painfully around the pan handle, and my lips pulled away from each other. My heart raced, blood almost burning in my veins, as my muscles clenched. The frog’s intense concentration shattered, emotionless face shifting to clear, sweating terror.

            My mind flashed back to the night before, the most wonderful night of my life. After pining for him for so long, he was finally mine, and now this thing wanted to _take that away._

            “… **never** …” It was a strangled whisper in my throat, hardly loud enough to even hear myself, but whatever it picked up made the frog freeze in place. My focus was trained solely on the monster in front of me, and my vision tinged red…

            “Get away from them!” The space between us lit up, forcing me to take cover from the sudden burst of heat behind my pan. When I dared look, the entrance to the room was on fire, the smallest fractions of an inch away from cooking the Froggit alive.

            Behind us, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns, outstretched hands still smoldering, was Toriel. My own anger paled in comparison.

            “I warn you now, the next pace you take towards a child of mine shall be your last!” Her voice rumbled like a volcano nearing eruption, her dominance absolute. The frog shook in its skin, meekly backing away into the labyrinth. With an indignant huff, Toriel raised a hand, the fire responding to her unspoken command and extinguishing itself. A grunt of pained effort tore my eyes away from the display.

            “John!” Carefully, I dropped down to one knee, putting an arm around his back for support. “Are you alright?” He was hacking and wheezing, still trying to recover from having his lungs forcefully flattened. One of his hands clutched his chest, the other the journal. As soon as he had his right mind back, he tucked it back into his sweater pocket, coming to the same conclusion as me. Something about that book set his assailant off, and neither of us wanted to flash it around a second time to test it.

            “Johnathon, can you stand?” Toriel’s rage had subsided, replaced with a tangible concern. I felt him put more weight on me, using me as a makeshift crutch. I wasn’t complaining for a second. “We should go back so you can rest from…”

            “N-no, I…” His speech was splintered and loose. “Just lost… lost air. Give me a f… few minutes.” A horrible, scratchy cough ripped through his lungs, his balance getting thrown off. He would’ve fallen if he wasn’t leaning on me. “I’ll be fine.” Toriel looked as skeptical as me, but was willing to trust him.

            “Alright, we will wait it out, but if you are still not well in ten minutes, we will be returning to my home for a proper examination and treatment if necessary.”

 

-

 

            We were near the nine minute mark when his breathing evened out. Other than a minor limp, he seemed alright, so Toriel gave in on the condition that I helped him with walking. I don’t think either of us had any complaints, the closeness helping process what the heck just happened. It’s not every day you’re roughed up by a frog.

            I know it sounds selfish, but I think I needed the support more. My breathing was still heavy, though regular enough to hide as exhaustion, and most of my muscles still burned. It wasn’t an outwardly painful sensation, though, more like they were being pushed out from the inside. It was empowering, but stagnating at the same time, my arms and legs slightly more stiff than I was comfortable with. Having a goal to focus on helped keep them loose.

            As bad as my body was, my mind was aching even worse. The thought hit me that if Toriel hadn’t stepped in, there would be blood on my hands. I would be a murderer, and that idea alone turned my stomach.

            _‘If it helps, monsters don’t really bleed. They just sort of…’_

_‘No, it doesn’t help at all!’_ Finally, when Avat decided to show themselves, I had a target to blast with all my bottled up frustration. _‘What the Hell were you thinking giving a_ teenager _that sort of ultimatum!? I could have just yelled for Toriel or stalled for time. What that Froggit did was bad, yeah, but do I look like I want to be the same sort of Jack the…?’_

_‘She can’t save you forever.’_ Their normally distant, condescending tone turned cold, hollow. The frost struck me to the core, the tsunami of thoughts in my head slowing to a crawl. _‘She knows the danger of this place all too well. She’ll be doing everything in her power to keep you safe, and that means keeping you here. If you want to get back to the surface, staying under her wing will only hinder you, and once you get going, calling for help will be useless.’_

_‘No one will save you. No one will come.’_

            Talking to them was never a fun experience. It left me confused, anxious, and empty. If I wanted to be a good person, I would die, but if I killed to get back to the surface, would that really be me seeing the Sun again?

            _‘Hey, it’s your choice.’_ I was almost relieved to hear them not caring again. _‘I’m just the advisor here. That was the deal, right? Listen to me and find your way home, or don’t and watch as you and your friend succumb to the same fate.’_

_‘Heh, it’s not like you’re actually telling me how to get out yet.’_ It felt like it had been forever since they promised to help me, but so far, the only thing they told me how to do was kill frogs.

            _‘All in due time. Keep yourself alive, and I’ll tell you what do do when the time is right. You can’t shoot a gun without any bullets after all.’_ Yeah, yeah, cryptic spirit junk. I was getting less and less satisfied with their brand of ‘help,’ but it was all I had. Even if getting them to talk was like pulling teeth, I had to endure.

            Eventually, we found our way back to an uncomfortably familiar room. Well, calling it a room wasn’t quite right. It was more so a void, a black nothing surrounding a big patch of buttercups. The three of us could stand in it with more than enough room to spare.

            Looking up, my eyes were almost white washed by the first sunlight I had seen in what felt like ages. It wasn’t as warm or as bright as I remembered, but the little taste of the surface was sufficient to make me want more. It was the worst tease of an appetizer I had ever seen, the full meal at the other end of a bed of hot coals. I screwed my eyes shut, hoping to block out the horrible reality falling apart just out of sight.

            Blindly walking, surprisingly, was a bad idea on my end, bumping into Toriel who had stopped while I was staving off a personal crisis. The relatively little nudge didn’t do anything to her sturdy, monolithic stance. How strong was this so-called ‘old lady?’ Curiously, I leaned to the side enough to see that her hands were clasped together in front of her, and her head was dipped just so, mouth turned into a reserved frown.

            That specific posture grasped deep into my repressed memories, hauling out something Avat had mentioned in our first encounter. With a gulp, my eyes were drawn magnetically to the ground. There, just at the edge of the visible ring, was a sole stone, haloed by the darkness beyond. A single bar of chocolate sat at its base.

            The gravesite was impeccably preserved. Despite being the first of several disappearances that were spread out over the last two decades give-or-take, erosion had hardly scratched the tombstone, the smooth surface as clear as the day it was made. In most circumstances, my eyes would have been drawn to the writing carved across the front, a pair of runes distinctly meaning something, but my judgment was impaired by the weight of the situation finally landing on my shoulders.

            The ceiling up there was my new sky, the cap of my world. Friendly faces were few and far between, everyone beyond John and Toriel liable to turn as soon as they had an inkling of the world I was ever sealed away from, and even then a few seemed happy getting set of at random, unknown triggers. In this darkness, the only light I had left was this thin sliver, the leftovers of the bounteous Sun that just so happened to roll between the Earth’s floorboards. And, at the end of it all, what awaited me was a simple, if earnest burial where only two people who cared about me would ever know. I sensed my heart starting to chisel away as thoughts of home, my _real_ home, came back to me. I muted my internal voice, but that did nothing for the ones outside.

            “I’m sorry if we’re intruding on something personal, Toriel. If you need a little more room to grieve properly…”

            “No, please stay. The company helps keep me anchored, so to speak. I am afraid the grieving never truly stops anyway. For a parent, losing one’s child is nothing shy of devastating. I will never be free of thoughts of them.” She went on past that, but it was as far as I could go. My weakening heart cracked in two, and from inside came a torrent of warm, once comforting memories.

            _“Terry, dear, dinner’s ready!”_

_“Wow, this is great! You might just be a better cook than your mother one day.”_

_“Have fun, honey, and let us know how things with John go. Maybe it’ll shake out a few more of our old stories for you!”_

            “Terry?” I was shaking, eyes locked back at that tiny, cruel hole in the roof. My eyes burned from the direct exposure, but I couldn’t care, the light streaks in my vision blending with the blurring tears. My chest started to jolt in and out as my breathing got stagnated, and a sudden weariness drained my legs of all use. Gravity jumped at its chance to make me its plaything, but my floor came a lot sooner than I thought, John jumping to reverse who was holding up who.

            “What’s wrong? Are you hurt, or…?” Through the haze, I found John’s eyes. They were worried, small, and fixed on mine. He cared. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.” I struggled to find the words, but they died in my throat. I couldn’t tell him about us being stuck because no one had told us. That was from Avat, and I was afraid even thinking about talking about them would cut me off from the only help we had. All I could do was throw myself at him, burying my head in his sweater. I couldn’t even smell the cinnamon anymore.

            “Mom, Dad…” I had said it too quietly to even hear it myself, but him surrounding me in his arms told me he had heard loud and clear.

            “We can find our way back. I promise, I’ll get you home.” Behind us, Toriel’s already fallen expression got blended with a guilty shock, the truth I already knew sneaking up on her. And like that, I could see the rift between my only two sources of respite starting to form before it could breach the surface.

            I had too much reality chaining me down already. I let myself melt into John’s arms, hoping beyond all reason that I could pretend, if even for a few minutes, that I wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, guys. My usual goal is one chapter per week once things get rolling, but a small side project kind of took a week from me. You'll probably be seeing that project towards the beginning of April (assuming you like Monster Hunter.)
> 
> Anyway, I do hope the whiplash wasn't too painful. Then again, knowing me, you probably have helmets on in advanced for this sort of thing. Keep them on for a while, you'll need the padding.


	7. Escaping Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One who trudges through darkness to find their light should be wary. The Sun isn't the only thing that can cause burns.

            Toriel was quick to bring us back to her home. The entire way, she refused to look either of us in the eye, but I could tell even from a peripheral view that something was eating at her. John was left to guess, holding me close to comfort me, but I knew exactly what was happening. My body tried to purge itself of that knowledge, to drown itself with tears until it was forced to forget, but I ran out of water long before it worked. I was left to dryly weep, the chains of the Underground growing ever heavier around my throat.

            When we were back under her roof, Toriel gestured for us to follow her into the door on the left, bringing us into an expansive living room. She offhandedly lit the fireplace next to an overly cushy reading chair, but she left it in exchange for a large, wooden seat at the long table on our left, taking only the book she had left sitting on the armrest. She set it so it was open in front the chair we took, the yellowed, aged pages staring up at us.

            “Terry, Jonathon, I must apologize. As your host, I have failed to provide you with all the details regarding your situation. The need had yet to arise for a time, and I foolishly felt I could avoid the matter. Now, though, its inevitability is all too clear.” John stared at her in bewilderment, her stern, no nonsense attitude tinged with heavy regret shaking him, but I could only fake the shock. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath before letting it out in one, confirming statement.

            “I am afraid returning to the surface is an impossibility.” My body wilted, every fear Avat had planted in my mind coming to bloom.

            “What, why!?” John’s hold on me tightened, like he was trying to shield me from what we just heard.

            “Earlier today, we discussed at length the relationship between humans and monsters, how we were forgotten over time until our existence became the base of legends and myths. I must admit that there is one more facet to be told, one that I can remember all too clearly.” She pointed to a picture in her book, one of silhouettes facing each other. The one on the right looked like a human, and on the left was one that towered over it, the faint outline of horns setting it apart.

            “In ancient times, humans had grown to fear monsters for our magical abilities. They feared we, a peaceful race, would throw back some facade of friendliness and take over the surface. In this unfounded fear, they struck first, taking swathes of lives with every raid.” She turned the page, this one depicting seven cloaked figures surrounding what looked like a mountain.

            “When the humans had us cornered, backed into a cave for our last stand, they instead unleashed seven of their own magi. We do not know how they obtained the incantation, but they used the power of their Souls to raise a Barrier. This wall contains us to this day, trapping monster kind and any being that falls here.” Her hand drifted back to her side, her eyes squinting shut.

            “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to show you the way home, but the path is blocked by an insurmountable spell. Only the power of seven severed human Souls, to match those that set it in the first place, could clear it away. Now, the King of monsters, Asgore Dreemurr, has gathered four Souls in this pursuit. I fear what terror he would unleash if he were to obtain enough to free himself and his army.” She rose out of her seat, closing the book to store back on the shelf.

            “That is why I cannot allow you to leave. Beyond the Barrier itself, should Asgore learn of your presence here, he would stop at nothing to obtain your Souls. He would kill you, just as he has every human that crossed his sight, every child that has crossed these floors.” She wiped at her eyes, the fur there starting to darken, before looking away. “I am sorry, but my heart could not take the deaths of any more children.”

            “Toriel, please!” The edge in John’s voice was desperate, almost angry. “Terry can’t stay here. She has a family, a mother and a father that love her more than anything. There must be some way…!”

            “There is not.” Her voice cracked, her composure fading away as swiftly as it came. “Many humans I cared for dearly have fallen to this madness. I cannot allow you to follow them to the grave.” She could hardly speak now, choking on her own tears. She stood there, likely waiting for our reactions. I couldn’t react, not anymore. The wound had already scarred over.

            John’s, however, was still fresh. His hand twitched, sometimes tightening, others loosening. His eyes wove chaotically from side to side, searching for an answer on the tabletop. Eventually, the boiling rage drained away, his arms drooping over my shoulders.

            “Come on, Terry, we should get some rest. It’s been a long day.” I didn’t fight him pulling me to my feet or escorting me back to our room. Glancing over our shoulders, I finally saw Toriel’s face, expression warped and hanging with the weight of her guilt. A part of me could only feel enraged and betrayed, but I knew our situation hurt her just as much. I couldn’t get a single thought in my head to come out right, let alone the emotions that swarmed around inside me like a nest of provoked hornets.

            Even my one source of comfort seemed off. John’s expression had gone blank, showing no emotion either good or bad, and the glare on his glasses blocked out his eyes. The only reason I still felt certain leaning on him was the hand combing through my neck-length, brown hair. He still had enough focus to stop before accidentally hooking the tie that kept it tied up orderly behind me. When we got into our room, the door closing harshly behind us, I was almost shocked when I heard him speak up.

            “We’re leaving tonight.” A jolt ran through me, and, for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt my heart start beating again.

            “But you heard her, there’s no way…”

            “No way?” The light on his face had shifted out of the way, giving me a clear view of his blue eyes, the driven, measured fury there piercing through me. “That implies that our course is set for failure. I don’t know about you, but I am done surrendering to fate.” If it were anyone else, I would have flinched away, the fire in his voice welcoming no dissuasion, but from him, it was like the embers in my heart reignited. The hollow frost was retreating, but still it tugged at my doubts.

            “But where would we start? These Ruins are huge, and the way forward could be anywhere.”

            “Didn’t you hear Toriel? She said that Asgore killed every child that, quote, “Crossed these floors.” That means the path to him, and, likely, the main entrance, hides somewhere in this house.” His certainty was absolute, not a single other possibility valid in his mind.

            “Then there are the monsters. If even one of them is as strong as Toriel, how would we survive an attack?”

            “Simple, we’ll avoid them at all costs. We’re still children, small, easy to hide, and even if we are found, we’re fast. Just because they attack us doesn’t mean we have to return fire, especially if we know we would lose.”

            “But there’s still the Barrier. If monsters, things with magic and fire and everything, couldn’t bring it down, what chance do we…?”

            “Screw the Barrier!” His hushed, but sharp outrage cut through my questioning. He put a hand on each of my shoulders, looking me directly in the eye. Down, beneath the fire and brimstone, I saw a core of tenderness. “Terry, you are, bar none, the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without you, I wouldn’t have stopped seeking death like a blind fool. I would have thrown myself into a lake and drowned or let the frog finish me off, but I have you, my one reason for living.” The hatred cleared away, and the sky of his affection was more beautiful than the Earth’s could ever hope to be.

            “And I refuse to stand aside while you suffer. I will tear a path to the surface for you with my bare hands if I must.” My heart skipped a beat, and my eyes started to water. A thin, airy laugh slipped out, and I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could.

 

-

 

            My eye was fixed on the crack in the door. It was dark, the Underground’s light somehow diminishing when night came, but there was still a small, ambient glow to go by in the main hall.

            It wasn’t the light I was watching, though, it was a possible lack thereof, a shadow going by. John had left a few minutes before, scouring the house for a way further into the cave system. I had offered to help look, but he thought it was for the best that one of us stayed behind to watch incase Toriel decided to wake up in the middle of the night. If I saw someone going from the left to the right, I was to knock out a “Shave and a Haircut” rhythm. With any luck, she would think it was just part of her own footsteps and John would hear the alarm for what it actually was.

            In the meantime, I was left with my thoughts. I hadn’t seen John so fired up in my whole life, and it was touching that he would push himself that far all for me, but I still had my doubts about his plan. That is to say his lack thereof when it came to dealing with the Barrier itself. Even if he could piece together a way through it, it would take time, and the chances were pretty high that there would be heavy security at what was essentially the vault door between monster kind and their captors. Getting past them and too the Barrier was one thing, but we wouldn’t have much of a chance to take care of what they’ve been trying to break for centuries. At that point, we would be as good as stuck…

            _‘Oh, you said the magic word!’_ My focus shifted inwards, my mind forming a natural response to the second person in my head. _‘Would you care for the step-by-step?’_

_‘Finally holding up your end of the deal?’_ It had been over twenty four hours since I agreed to their terms, and I hadn’t said a peep to anyone no matter how much I wanted to. It was about time they followed through.

            _‘I never intended to go back on our trade, my dear. Frankly, I’m hurt that you would think such a thing!’_ I wasn’t sure if their theatrics were more annoyingly condescending or creepily detached. _‘Now, you remember the way to break the Barrier, right?’_ I nodded, even though I probably didn’t need to.

            _‘Seven human Souls can undo the lock, right?’_

_‘Exactly, and, considering how many monsters there are, that would be their best option. But for just the two of you, I know another, less expensive way. Think less opening the door than going through the doggy flap.’_ I raised an eyebrow at the analogy.

            _‘Weird phrasing, I know, but it works. Anyway, the exact formula for destruction is seven human Souls. It would overwhelm the magic. Now, for most people, the wall responds to the inherent power of the Soul itself to repel its holder. That means monsters, humans, and animals can’t get by. It’s set to recognize all creatures in the compendium of the seven creators, and, between them, they got just about every sentient species. What you need to do is alter your signature so the Barrier gets confused, losing its cohesiveness just long enough for you to pass through.’_ I was used to John talk, but all this micro magic physics stuff was beyond me.

            _‘I think I’m the only thing getting confused around here.’_ They groaned like a particularly underpaid teacher.

            _‘Okay, simply put, you need to make your Soul look like it’s not from a human or a monster. If it’s somewhere in the middle, the Barrier won’t see you as something it needs to block and you can go through no problem. That better?’_

_‘A little. I get the idea, but how would we actually do it? You know, the important part?’_ They chuckled quietly, probably trying to keep it to themselves.

            _‘That’s just as easy. The King wants to absorb human Souls to change his own. You can do the same with his people.’_ My heart dropped like a rock, and the cold weight sat sickeningly at the bottom of my gut.

            _‘You want me to go vampire on random monsters!?’_

            _‘Well, kind of. There’s a big difference between the two types of Souls. A human’s can stick around for years on end so long as the conditions are right, as you can see by me. Monsters, though, aren’t quite as long lasting. When the body goes, the Soul shatters instantly. There is one breed of monster, though, that can stick around for a few moments after death, the Boss monsters. If you can kill one and grab its Soul before it goes to dust, then you can consider yourself a free person. The Barrier won’t stop you, and you’ll take all of its power to boot. At that point, all that would be left would be to stroll all leisurely back to the surface.’_ I swallowed the lump in my throat. I hated the idea of murder, but it was the only lead I had. I figured I should have all the information I needed on hand if I decided to go through with it.

            _‘So, say I were to follow your plan, what exactly does a Boss monster look like?’_ I could feel their smile spreading, my mind buzzing as they shifted around in my skull.

            _‘You could spot one from a mile away. For starters, they’re big fellas. Not the biggest monsters, mind, but when it comes to the human shaped ones, they literally stand a head above the rest. The guys usually have giant horns on their head, but the girls have a smaller, stubbier pair just above the ears.’_ Wait, horns? Why did that sound so…

            _‘No…’_

            _‘Their hands only have four fingers instead of five, though they’re a little wider to make up for it, and there are these little, sharp nubs at either end of their mouth, kind of like fangs. But I’d say the most striking feature…’_

_‘You couldn’t mean…’_

_‘…is all that white fur.’_

My whole world ground to a stop. I thought I would be sick. Not only did they want me to kill someone…

            …Avat wanted me to kill Toriel.

            _‘She’s asleep right now, out like a light. If you want that Soul, you had better go now. You’re no match for her when she’s awake.’_ My legs were numb, as heavy as lead. I couldn’t move, nor did I want to. _‘What are you so worried about? John thinking bad of you? Trust me, do it quick enough and he’ll never know. Maybe lie to him when you take the other one, say that only one of you needed it for both to get through. He’d buy it, I promise!’_

_‘It’s not John I’m worried about, it’s…’_

_‘What, afraid God’s going to get his beard in a knot over it? Take my word for it, I’ve been dead for decades and I haven’t seen any signs of Heaven or Hell. You’re not going to burn for it.’_

_‘I can’t kill her!’_ I was shaking in my own skin now, eyes slammed shut to hold it all in. _‘Ever since she found us, she’s been nothing but nice. If I killed her after she nursed us back to health for no gain of her own, I could never live with myself.’_ My heart was set, not budging an inch on the topic. _‘We can just find some other Boss monsters to take it from. I’m sure there’s a few more out there that would attack us on sight anyway. We can just take their Souls then.’_

_‘I hate to say it, but the current head count for Bosses is down to two.’_ The math took less than a spine-chilling second. _‘If you want to see the surface with your friend again, you’re going to need both Souls. That means taking hers. You don’t have much choice.’_ My heart said no, but my head couldn’t work around their logic. The former was getting heavier and heavier, pinning me to the bed, but the other was reaching out for my arms, grasping for the pan at my side. It would just be one swing. One swing and I would be strong enough to…

            Wait, that was it!

            _‘You’re wrong, we don’t need both Souls! You said if I could get one, I would get too strong for anyone to mess with, right?’_ Silently, I felt a presence in the back of my mind rising and falling, like a nod. I think I peaked their curiosity. _‘If I can get the other Soul, it would give me enough of a power boost to protect John. Then he can do his own work on the Barrier while I take care of the King and his army!’_ A whistle blew.

            _‘Huh, that’s not a horrible idea. You sure you’re going to have the guts to take out the other Boss, though? He’s a tough one.’_

            _‘Oh, so you know him well enough to say that? I guess that means you can help me outsmart him. How about that?’_ This time, the response was just a laugh. Not dry, snobbish, or the least bit disconnected. It was full force, loud, echoing, and unnerving to the highest degree. I only thought sounds like that came from the halls of an asylum.

            _‘You might just be the most interesting person I’ve dealt with since I started up this spirit guide thing! Tell you what, you keep your mouth shut about me and I’ll give you as complete a walkthrough as I can manage. This could be_ fun!’ That husky, slavering edge in their voice was freaking me out, slowly eroding my image of them from a sacrificed human to something far more beastly, but at least they were on my side.

            Their laughter fell silent as the door creaked open. I was jolted from my stillness, realizing I had gone half comatose while on guard duty. Luckily, it looked like John had gotten here and back unseen. Now, though, he had a sack flung over his shoulder and a sweater in the other hand.

            “Okay, I think I found the way, but it’s a lot colder down that way. Here, take this.” He handed me the extra layer of clothing, an old looking sweater with green and yellow stripes running from side to side. It didn’t have any front pockets, but it sure looked inviting, especially if it was as cold as he said it was. I had about enough of freezing my butt off back on top of the mountain. I took it, slipping it over my head as he went on whispering.

            “It may be a long journey, so I took a few more slices of pie for the road. If we’re lucky, Toriel will just think we wanted a midnight snack and not check on us for a little while. Are you ready to go?” I nodded, head popping out of the neck hole. On top of being warm, I felt like I knew the sweater from somewhere. It felt… familiar, almost nostalgic. I shifted around, fluffing up the thick material while John gently took my hand, leading the way to freedom. I softly closed the bedroom door behind us, giving a mellow glance back further down the hall.

            _‘Sorry, Toriel, but you were right. Losing family is the worst feeling, and I can’t put mine through that. Thank you, for everything.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this little trilogy is some of the most fun writing I've done in years. It's liberating to write darkly about the unseen cracks in a mostly light source. Note I said mostly. I'm barely tweaking Chara's canon here.
> 
> That reminds me. To any Extra Credits fans here, remember a few years ago when they did that Cthulhu episode? Am I the only one who sees how perfectly Chara uses those tips of theirs? Seriously, look through the ideas they gave and it's practically one-to-one. If you don't remember or just aren't familiar, look it up and try applying their ideas to Chara. It's actually very interesting.


	8. Freezing Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold without, cold within. Which kills faster?

            John led me down those stairs opposite the main entrance, taking us to a long, dark purple hallway. The odd, ever-present lighting of the Underground seemed to fade away, this one passage nearly pitch black. Ironically, I had to rely on John’s help to not bump into anything on the way. We made a sharp turn, and we stopped shortly after. He leaned in close and whispered in my ear.

            “It’s going to be a lot colder from this point on. Are you sure you’ll be alright? I can run back up and grab a few more layers if…” I smiled at my socially awkward white knight.

            “I’ll be alright, as long as we stick together. Two bodies are warmer than one, right?” It was only a moment later that I realized how horribly someone could take that, but the kiss on my forehead told me it went right over him.

            He reached out in front of us, and it was only when his hand met a solid surface that I noticed the wall in front of us was split down the middle. It was a huge stone door, the winged symbol on it reminding me of the mark on Toriel’s robe. I quickly buried that thought along with the distinct nausea of guilt. I couldn’t afford to get cold feet.

            Slowly as to lessen the noise, he pushed, the slab holding firm for a few seconds before begrudgingly giving way. It scraped along the ground heavily, and I was sure going any faster would cause it to echo back up into the house. A cool rush of air poured out at us, sending a shiver up my spine. It was cold, just like he said, but I could take it, especially once my body got used to it. As soon as the gap was wide enough, John pulled me through, pushing the door back into place twice as quickly as it had opened.

            “What are you doing? She probably heard that!”

            “It’s too late for her to come after us. Look at the door.” Confused, I scanned over it, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. It was a pair of stone slabs, just like the other side barring the lack of a rune. It took me a second to realize what was missing from the picture.

            “Wait, if this thing opens out this way, wouldn’t you need a handle?” He nodded.

            “Precisely. It seems this door is one way, and I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t risk locking herself out of her own home to come after us.” I gulped, the finality of it sinking in. It really was too late to go back now. On one hand, it meant that, if this was a mistake, we couldn’t take it back. On the other, it meant we only had one direction to go, forward. No matter how hard it got, going back was no longer a tempting option.

            “We should get going, just incase you’re wrong about her.” Even imagining the look of betrayal she would give us hurt deep down, and I think he saw it on my face.

            “Right, I don’t believe either of us are of a mindset to explain ourselves at the moment. Shall I lead the way?” I nodded, thankful to have such a polite guide. You know, even though neither of us really knew where we were going but up. It’s the thought that counts.

            Ahead of us was another hallway, but there was something off about it. I was reminded of where we first woke up down here, that dark, ominous room with the flowers. There was even a single spotlight towards the end, though it came from a lonely looking crystal on the ceiling, and all that grew under it was grass. Most importantly, I didn’t see any tombstones here. Yay, I could keep my lunch down. Not that it could come back up anyway, instantly absorbed magic and all.

            At the end of the path, a marble archway stood looming above us. Its bright white surface hurt to look at when compared to the pitch black surroundings. Between the pillars that held it up, there was another set of doors. I could tell that much easily, but any specifics were hard to make out. All I could see was darkness, but I _knew_ it was a door. How was that even…?

            _‘Might want to push it open before your pal walks you both headlong into it. Going through it once is enough for me.’_ Oh, that was why. Avat must have been streaming their memories to mix with what I was seeing, or at least something like that. I didn’t know anything specific about this magic passenger stuff, but I knew a useful tool when I saw it. I guess they meant it when they said ‘full walkthrough.’

            A foot away, I held out a hand, and I was almost surprised by how easily it slid open. It felt no heavier than an average wooden door, but I could tell from the texture that it was definitely stone. I shrugged it off, shoving it open and stepping outside without a second thought.

            That didn’t stop a second, third, and fourth thought when I stepped directly into a pile of something obscenely cold, a breeze that was nothing short of instant hypothermia blasting across my face. I tried to step back into cover, but the harsh slam told me that the door had just closed itself again, and, looking back with my eyes cupped from the wind, I saw that the purple stone entrance had no handles, either. Who would build a doorway like this!?

            “Oh my…!” The arm around me instinctually clenched harder, almost locking up from the sudden cold. I took the chance to force myself deeper into the outer folds of his violet sweater, ignoring the lump of his journal as any and all body heat that leaked from his clothes went directly to me. It was still cold, though, the frosted jitters taking over most of my muscles.

            “I’m so s-s-sorry, if I had-d known it got worse I would have…” I gave a light thump to his front pocket, the padded knocking on the book’s hard cover like a single tick of a metronome.

            “It’s fine, really. You couldn’t check any farther than that first door, and I don’t think either of us would expect…” I looked down, it finally hitting me what was wrong here. I was standing in ankle deep snow, the liquid content thoroughly soaking through my sneakers, and yet there was a large, earth roof above our heads.

            “How is this possible? There shouldn’t be any weather patterns like this underground, it defies every basic law of precipitation! Without sunlight, the water shouldn’t be able to evaporate and raise to a point cold enough to become…!” I knocked again, this time a little harder.

            “Let’s just say ‘magic’ and move on. We can think about it more when we’re not minutes away from being eaten alive by Jack Frost.” He shook his head, bringing himself back to the situation at hand.

            “Right, right.” He scanned the immediate area, the heavy, white-coated trees to our left and right lining a path. “I suppose we don’t have much choice but to follow this for the time being.” Of course, when he said that, he hadn’t seen the pit that was about thirty feet away at the time, but, right next to it, I figured our choices got cut down even more.

            I fished around in my head for an answer, but I immediately rejected the idea that came to me. We weren’t nearly athletic enough to just jump over it, and we were sorely lacking in skateboards. I had no idea how or why Avat had those sorts of ideas back in their day, but I knew questioning it was an even worse idea than jumping.

            “So, what should we…?” My question was cut short when my protective, warming human blanket vanished, leaving me exposed to the cold. I swiftly turned to face him, but the lightbulb in my head went off when I noticed what he was walking towards. It looked like one of the smaller trees had collapsed under the weight of the snow, leaving two halves of its length laying on the ground. John grabbed the thicker of the two, dragging it split-side up towards the hole. I mean, he tried, but I could tell he wasn’t going to be a lumberjack any time soon.

            I rushed over to the opposite end of the log, hauling it up as best I could. Weirdly, it felt light, like it was made of plastic. Maybe the cold messed with how it grew? Either way, with both of us working, it only took a short minute to get it over to the gap, carefully extending it to the other side. We let out a sigh of relief when it settled into place, the thick snow holding the rounded outer bark in place. Somehow, the place it had split at was almost completely flat, like a somewhat rushed bridge.

            The look didn’t mean anything, though, only how well it would hold us as we crossed. John took the first step.

            “I’m the heavier one between us. If it can support me, it can do the same for you. Do you think you could put some weight on it from this end, just incase it wants to roll on us?” I nodded, kneeling down and pressing a knee to the wooden surface. Step by step, he made it over, the way he held his arms out to his sides reminding me of the tightrope act at a circus. His method seemed to work, getting to solid ground without so much as a wobble. From his side, he mimicked my position, holding the log in place.

            “Alright, just keep moving, one foot in front of the other, and don’t take your eyes off me. Do you think you can do that?” I smiled coyly.

            “Well, you are quite the looker.” I had almost forgot how much I loved it when he got all flustered. His blush’s bright red stood out appealingly from the black and white environment, relieving some of the crushing weight on my shoulders. I had to remember the little things.

            I stared directly ahead as I crept along, beating back every instinct to look down with a mallet. I knew letting my brain see the consequence for slipping would only make me more jittery, which, in turn, would make it easier to mess up. Why was the human brain so backwards at times?

            About two-thirds of the way across, a loud crash echoed through the woods. My heart jumped in my chest, and the uncontrollable jump away from the noise sent my balance well out of my reach. I jerked from side to side, trying to reclaim my center of gravity, but it refused to stay in one place now that the ball was rolling.

            My body reacted all on its own, legs tightening beneath me as my torso teetered above it. I found myself thrown forward, my brain taking a second to catch up with the fact that it was my own bottom half that did it. I had been in split second situations before, but the sudden loss of control was new and, frankly, disheartening.

            John caught me in my decline, swiftly dragging me as far away from the pit as he could get in one hop. I latched onto the folds of his sweater, my body realigning itself to proper ground.

            _‘Good grief, you say you want to take on the King, but then you go and almost die from a little ledge like that. You’re lucky I’ve had to go over it a few times, otherwise the muscle memory wouldn’t have been there to save your skin.’_ And there was my culprit, back to their ‘above everything’ attitude. Being fair, it was an accurate observation, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

            John opened his mouth, probably about to ask if I was okay, but he was interrupted by another crash, then another, and another. It was becoming more and more regular as time went on, and I found myself growing curious.

            I slipped out of John’s hold, gesturing for him to follow me further down the path. I ducked behind every other tree, knowing whoever made a racket like that would be a monster but blind to whether that particular person would know what we were. That meant I had to be careful, but something in me still said I needed to find out what all the noise was about.

            I peered out from around a tree, only to be forced to duck back behind it by what looked like most of a trunk flying past. I gave John a wide eyed, shocked look, one he returned. We sat there and waited in cover, listening for when the racket died down. The coast seemed to clear soon enough, and I poked an eye out once again.

            I was surprised to see there was only one guy there, facing the other way right in the middle of a thirty-by-thirty foot space cleared of all but the torn, shattered remnants of trees. He wasn’t any bigger than us, humanoid shape about the size of a teenager, and he wore a baggy, blue, pull string sweater with relaxed-fit, gray yoga pants. I couldn’t quite tell what his footwear was, but I had other things on my mind.

            Like how he was missing, give-or-take, all of his flesh. The hands that stuck out of his sleeves were skeletal, connected to the ulna and radius bones, and a skull rested atop his shoulders. He was looking away from us, but I could see… something, leaking from the left side of his face. It looked like fire, but the deep blue color made me second guess.

            His body was twisting in on itself, a hand on each side of his head, and he was doubled over in pain. I could hear his strangled gasps for air as he roughly swung his head from side to side. In a flash of sympathy, I almost ran out of cover to try helping him however I could, but John grabbed me by the shoulder.

            “He’s about to go again.” I looked at him in numbed confusion, not knowing how he could figure something like that out, but the hard edge in his eyes wasn’t giving way, backed by the light shine of his lenses.

            I found out just how right he was when I turned back to the mystery man, his figure suddenly whipping out as though being blown outwards from his heart, arms stiffly jutting from his sides and head aimed directly up. From the new angle, I could see his eye sockets. There weren’t actual eyes in them, but something told me that wasn’t a problem. The right one was completely empty, a dark, lifeless hole in his head, but the left was filled to the brim, overflowing with that blue, gaseous stuff. It flared up and out, a jet stream bursting into the air.

            My ears nearly tore apart as his screams reached us, somehow high and low pitched at the same time. My brain struggled to accept the impossible tonality of what it was hearing, developing an undertone of white noise. I cringed, slamming a hand over each ear, though it only slightly alleviated the pain.

            The man fought for control of his limbs, dragging his arms back to his center against an unseen gale, but for every inch he gained, it seemed the forces against him got stronger and stronger. His sockets contorted in tortured aggravation, pushing for only a few more moments before throwing his balled up fists to the ground.

            The snow right between his hands puffed away from the ground, melting away into nothing as the flakes neared his head, where the flames had overtaken most of the left side of his face. I could see the air ripple around him just before the area detonated.

            John yanked me back behind our tree, bundling me up close to his chest just as the force passed us by. The snow came first, followed by massive chunks of earth that could have flattened us by mass alone. It hardly helped that they were going at fast enough speeds to blur my vision.

            By some miracle, none of them had hit our cover, leaving us uncrushed enough to wait out the storm. Looking just across the way, though, it looked like he had taken out more than a few dozen in my line of sight, and I didn’t even want to imagine the total tally of the damage I couldn’t see.

            _‘Get out of here.’_ Avat’s voice had lost any and all joviality. _‘Either the monsters out here have evolved in the last few years since I’ve seen them or this one’s an outlier. That light show is making the King look like a baby lamb, now run!’_ I didn’t question them for a second, bolting for the still intact part of the woods on the other side of the path, John getting dragged along behind me by his death grip around my chest. I only hoped the walking disaster area couldn’t hear us over his own screams, my heart burning with the grief of being unable to help him.

            Eventually, when the sounds of uprooting trees and scorching earth were well behind us, I stopped, nearly stumbling over my own feet as exhaustion set in. My lungs were a degree away from spewing out fire, and John wasn’t doing much better. The only reason he wasn’t passing out from the sprint was because he had used me like a snow ski for most of the way. I breathed deeply, getting just enough air in my lungs to respond to the situation appropriately.

            “What the actual Hell was that!?” He let go of me, slumping against the nearest tree for support.

            “A walking, talking skeleton, I think. Well… I suppose screaming is more accurate, but…” He rubbed at his eyes, only protected from all the running into dense, frozen air by his glasses. “I’m still trying to register whether that fire was actually there or not. I may very well be going mad. Do I still look sane?” Black hair as frazzled as a short cut could get, eyes wide and pupils small, and skin that was overheating despite being in the middle of a winter wasteland…

            “About as sane as we can get anymore, I guess.” I paused to think on it, accepting it with a quick, jerky nod.

            “Our lives have gotten more chaotic lately, for better or worse.” He wiped away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “I just hope we don’t run into another skeleton like that…”

            “DID YOU SAY SKELETON?”

            Mine nearly tore itself from its skin and muscles in shock, eyes settling on the figure that just popped in from scenic nowhere. He was shorter than the other one and a little thinner, a plain white t-shirt and off-green jean shorts covering his ribs and hips. His eyes were naturally wide, empty, but inexplicably friendly. Still, all things considered, I thought it best to keep my distance for the time being. He stared at us expectantly.

            “Um… yeah?” His already bright smile got downright blinding.

            “EXCELLENT, FINALLY SOMEONE HAS SEEN MY BROTHER! HE CAME OUT HERE TO DEAL WITH A SMALL CASE OF MAGICAL BACKUP, YOU SEE, BUT HE HAS BEEN GONE NEARLY TWELVE AND A HALF HOURS. I HAD BECOME WORRIED!” John and I exchanged a glance, reasonably unnerved by… just about everything from the last fifteen minutes. He decided to speak first.

            “You might want to rephrase that. From the stray bursts of magic and destroyed forestry, I would say ‘small’ isn’t the right description. I think ‘frightening’ is closer to the mark.” The little skeleton’s upbeat attitude did a flip-flop, face twisting into the most exaggerated expression of concern I had ever seen.

            “OH MY, IT LOOKS LIKE I WAS RIGHT TO WORRY. WHERE DID YOU SEE HIM?” I cautiously pointed back down the trail.

            “He’s, like, ten minutes that way if you run top speed. Just look out for flying debris, alright?” He nodded, face settling on worried determination. “Wait, before you go, we were wondering which way we should go to get to the Barrier?” John looked at me in confused alarm. I rolled my wrist behind my back, trying to tell him to roll with it. The little guy raised an eyebrow.

            “I TAKE IT YOU DON’T TRAVEL OUT OF THE WOODS TOO OFTEN? DO NOT WORRY, THE DIRECTIONS ARE ACTUALLY RATHER SIMPLE. JUST FOLLOW THIS PATH TO ITS END AND YOU WILL EVENTUALLY FIND YOURSELF IN NEW HOME, THE LOCATION OF KING ASGORE’S CASTLE. YOU WILL FIND THE BARRIER JUST THROUGH HIS GARDEN.” Wait, what? I knew the security would be tight, but the King himself!? I could feel my skin paling.

            “OH, DO NOT WORRY, HE ACTUALLY QUITE ENJOYS VISITORS. DO BE CAREFUL, THOUGH. HE IS MORE THAN LIKELY TO OFFER YOU TEA AND SCONES WHEN YOU ARRIVE, SO DON’T PLAN ON ANY LARGE MEALS BEFOREHAND. ALSO, YOU MAY WANT TO LOOK UP WHAT A SCONE IS. HE HAS EXPLAINED IT ENOUGH TIMES FOR HIMSELF CONSIDERING THERE ARE BOOKS ABOUT THEM. NOW I MUST BE GOING, MY BROTHER NEEDS ME. HAPPY TRAVELS!” One second, he was in front of us with a friendly smile. The next, he was gone, vanished down the road we just ran away from. I suddenly felt numb from the overload of sensations.

            “…Well, I suppose we know the correct way to go now. That’s part of our worries accounted for.” I answered him with a half hearted hum. “We were exceptionally lucky he didn’t realize what we were. Perhaps children aren’t shown too many images of the ones that captured them?” Another hum. “…Should we find somewhere to rest for a while?” I didn’t even hum, nodding slowly. And I had thought it was the voice in my head that would drive me crazy.

 

-

 

            We found a wide tree that blocked the wind before we took a seat. I didn’t even care that I had plopped down in heavy snow, sinking in most of the way to my waist. I was just happy to be off my feet. John opted to lean against it instead, reaching a hand down to run through my hair. The contact soothed my frazzled mind, if only a little bit.

            “Okay, status report. We’ve found out weather is a thing this far underground.”

            He made an affirmative noise.

            “Almost got our heads taken off by a berserker skeleton.”

            “Mmhm.”

            “Almost got our ears yelled off by a pint sized skeleton.”

            “Yes.”

            “And it’s only been about half an hour.”

            “More or less.” I was starting to think I wasn’t built for rigorous questing. I wanted more than anything to be back on the surface, cooking hot dogs without a worry in the world about being randomly murdered by the next living thing I saw.

            _‘That’s exactly_ why _you’re questing, as you put it. And I must say, you’re in better shape than the first girl that passed through. She was on death’s door before ever reaching Snowdin Forest. If it’s any consolation, then, at least you aren’t last place.’_

_‘Avat, please don’t go into that much detail about the other kids. I’m at my limit with one on my shoulders. Literally.’_

_‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game. It’s set up so you’re destined to lose either way, so excuse me for trying to find you a silver lining. Ungrateful much?’_ I held back a frustrated sigh.

            _‘Yeah, I know you’re trying, but it isn’t so much a silver lining as it is a gray one.’_

_‘Again, if it helps at all, you already avoided one of the big stumbling blocks. Poor kid munched on the oils from those buttercups. Turns out they were poisonous. Who knew?’_ Well, this was a little better. John wasn’t saying anything more than his soothing scalp massage. Why not socialize a little?

            _‘Wouldn’t you need to eat a ton of flowers for enough to build up? And if it was just the oil, wouldn’t it degrade over time until it was next to harmless? You’d think the stomach would burst long before it could take effect.’_ Behold the benefits of listening to a genius rambling.

            _‘Remember how the goat said stuff monsters put together get a magic upgrade? Well, that garden was her passion project.’_ Oh, right. Toriel was an exceptionally strong monster, too. If her helpful creations were so great at healing, I could only imagine how deadly something like plant toxins could get.

            “Look out!” The nice massage turned into a strong tug on the shoulder, pulling me to the side just as a whoosh of air went by, leaving a thin, straight mark across the tree’s trunk. It was only when the top and bottom halves started sliding apart that I realized how close I had been to losing my head, a heavy gulp making sure it was still connected.

            “Hold still, humans! This will be but a moment.” A flicker of movement in the trees. The branches rattled, the shaking from the leafless canopy above getting closer and closer. The snow a few yards away was displaced quickly and cleanly, not a spot of it but those directly landed on shifting.

            Standing in front of us was one freaky bird. It was half a foot shorter than us, our eyes at level with the row of feathers lining its head. It beak was wide and tall, filled with razor sharp teeth that seemed to slowly move around and around like the blades of a chainsaw. Its body vaguely resembled a chicken, though the feathers were a lighter blue instead of white, and its pupils were narrower, more focused.

            _‘Get up and grab your pan! You can take this one!’_ I pushed myself to my feet in one small hop, leaving myself in a half crouched stance. I slid my hand closer to the handle at my side. Before I could unhook it, though, John stepped between us, hands up.

            “Look, miss, we don’t want to cause any trouble. I understand your obligations, but if you turn the other way this once, I promise we will trouble your people no more.” Wait, that thing was a girl? She sneered at his suggestion.

            “You understand nothing. Even if you were true to your word, you could never fathom the pain humanity has caused us. Until you are forced to raise your young in a world of hollow darkness, you cannot claim to know our suffering. A debt written in unescapable shadows, a debt repaid in blood!” She bolted forward, her movements almost too quick to track. Her form was little more than a blurred afterimage, the tips of her wings starting to glow a bright white.

            Once more, I tried to take up my pan, but John grabbed my wrist. I was about to yell at him for the surprisingly dim move, but then I saw the slight dip in his posture, muscles loose, legs spread a little further apart. It was the confident stance of someone that knew what they were doing.

            The white line of her attack grew close enough to see around John’s sides, coming in around chest level. He started pulling me to the left, and I followed. His movements were smooth, precise, making it difficult to follow closely, but I was too far in to complain now. The bird’s attack slid by, inches from John’s nose.

            Her eyes tracked us, body stopping on a dime before she took a swing with her other wing. Her agility was nothing to shake a stick at, but, somehow, John was keeping up. He circled around her in the other direction, carrying me along for the ride. Around and around we went, avoiding decapitation by the width of a hair. It was terrifying, but amazing at the same time, especially considering it was coming from someone as far away from the ideal athlete as possible.

            “Stop running away, cowards!” The tip of a wing went straight up before roughly dropping into the ground. A tidal wave of snow flew upwards, covering my field of vision in a burning white and carrying enough force to nearly haul me up by the sweater, slipping into the apron still underneath like a small parachute. Before I could distinguish up from down, my grip on John, the one anchor I had in the blizzard, slipped away.

            “John, where are you!?” I couldn’t see anything. Whenever I opened my eyes, all I could see was the intense light reflecting off of the snow and directly into my retinas. It physically hurt to open them more than a hazy squint.

            “I don’t know, not until he opens his mouth.” I felt a puff of halfway warm air on the back of my neck. “Kind of like you.” Quicker than I could register the threat, a stabbing pain broke through my left arm.

            I could see feathers jutting out of the flesh just beneath my shoulder, covered in a thick, copper scented layer of blood. The pain overloaded my nerves, shock rippling through my body as it tensed up. Then I noticed her raising her other wing, this one pointed just left of my spine, as the frontmost feather started to glow.

            _‘I don’t have to take this.’_ That voice… It was in my head, but I wasn’t sure whose it was. It was rough, scratchy, and vicious in meaning, but the tone behind it was undoubtably my own. My right arm lifted, grabbing the pan at my hip and undoing the knot that held it in one motion.

            “Long live the King!” I felt the razor edge touch the outermost layer of my skin, and I rushed into motion, tearing my arm from the spikes as I span around, pan held out.

            “The King is dead!” Her eyes broke into a dark blue webbing, almost like a human’s becoming bloodshot, as the metal base met the side of her head. My wrist burned like nothing else, every ounce of that pain running through my weapon and into my foe. I saw her eyes glazing over before the impact sent her flying, punching a hole in the snow wall as the flurry began to settle. “Long live the Queen!”

            With that exclamation, the red hot fury drained away, and everything fell on me at once. The hot streaks of blood running down my left arm, dripping from the tips of my fingers. The dull ache in my wrist from the recoil. The small slit on my back where she had almost punched through.

            The snow cloud cleared away, showing me the still, cold, empty-eyed body left over. A new shock ran through me, the pan’s handle slipping from my grasp as I brought a hand up to cover my mouth. I… I just…

            “Don’t look!” John stepped between me and it again, this time looking me in the eye. I saw worry in his, and I knew he could feel the fear in mine. He broke the stare as soon as he realized the hole she had left behind. His eyes were wide, horrified, and I could feel my own panic spiraling out of control. As soon as my breathing started staggering, he put an arm around my back, changing his look to one of reassuring control.

            “It’s alright, I have the pie, remember? It should be able to heal you quickly, but it would be foolish to stay here near the…” He flinched, deciding to skip the clarification. It didn’t do anything to curb the swelling weight at the bottom of my gut. “Come on, there has to be a secluded alcove around here somewhere.” He leaned down to reclaim my frying pan, roughly knotting it back at my side, before grabbing the top of my arm, tightening his hold to slow the flow of blood. The other wrapped around me to try staving off the cold.

            As we walked away, I couldn’t help but look back over our shoulders. The unmoving body seemed more painful to me than anything she could have done while alive. Perhaps it was necessary, but it didn’t change one simple fact. My hands had killed, and the proof sat sprawling across the forest’s floor.

            _‘You won. You earn 30 EXP.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little later than usual, but the chapter is a little larger than usual. It's time to rev up those engines, because there are no brakes on the pain train!


	9. One with the Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say a frog put in water as the temperature slowly rises will sit still as he boils. Does the same happen as he freezes?

            It took longer than he hoped, but John eventually found somewhere out of the wind. The earth rose and fell in rectangular patches, plateaus on top of plateaus comprising most of the landscape. At the base of one was a small alcove, not quite dark enough to call a cave, but not open enough to just be the underside of an outcrop. The semantics didn’t matter as much as finding somewhere we could lick our wounds.

            I could barely feel my left arm, the blood freezing over into a sheet of red. I tried not to look directly at the wide open hole in my arm for fear that I’d see the bone. My right got off lucky with a swollen, aching wrist. John knew I wouldn’t be making use of either in my condition, lowering me down to a sitting position manually so I could lean more comfortably against the stone wall.

            Thankfully, the sack he had been carrying was still in one piece, untouched aside from the heavy glazing of ice. It took him a while to pry it open from the cold’s unwavering clasp.

            _‘Not too bad for a first bout. The last kid nearly snapped her foot clean off when she kicked a Moldspar. Apparently, they can compact themselves to the density of a boulder. Who knew?’_

_‘Leave me alone.’_ I glared at the ground, my now loose, flowing hair acting as a curtain to block John’s view.

            _‘Hey now, didn’t you already say you planned on killing the other Boss, not to mention the King’s Guard? Where’d all that gusto go?’_

_‘I think it leaked out of my arm on the hobble here. You’re free to go scrape it up if you want, but it’ll take a while.’_ I felt a pressure like hands pressing into my cheeks, but I couldn’t see anyone actually there.

            _‘Oh no, you’re not getting cold feet on me now. Remember why you’re fighting? Are you really going to let your boy toy face the next ice ninja on his own?’_

            “Open up.” The phantom’s presence all but vanished, leaving me back in my sore, torn body, peeking through my hair to find John holding a piece of pie up to my mouth. “I know it’s probably hard to focus, but I need you to take one bite for me. Can you do that?” Well, it was hard to focus, but not from what he thought. Oddly, I wasn’t feeling too many side effects from all the blood loss as if my body’s production was high enough to compensate. Still, guilty or no, I was about done with having a chance to see my insides on the outside. I leaned forward, taking a careful bite from the tip of the pie.

            Almost instantly, an intense itch washed over my upper arm. By the time it hit me, though, it was already leaving, the general sensation of stretching and heat taking its place. I took another bite, almost surprised to see the wound closing itself right before my eyes. The new cells were coming in like strands of yarn, weaving into new skin, meat, and bone. By the time I finished the third mouthful, all signs of the injury aside from the caked on blood were gone, and I could feel something other than intense pain from the opposite wrist.

            “There, it’s closed. Not sure if you can hear me totally. The magic should theoretically refill your lost blood, but… Can you hear me? Blink once for yes, twice for no. I mean, if you can’t hear me, you wouldn’t hear me saying that, so what would it…?” I looked him straight in the eyes, blinking thrice.

            “I can hear, just… really tired.” My body still felt bloated, heavy, with lead replacing the fillings in my feet. I knew it wasn’t a physical issue, but it was more than real enough for me. John nodded, carefully taking a seat next to me on the right. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to cuddle up against the other arm. “Gonna need a bath after this. With acid, and steel wool.” The remark took him by surprise.

            “Now I’m fairly certain you don’t need that much to clean a little… well, blood in general. Some running water should do the job fine, we just need to find a river or such.”

            “Not talking about the outside.” His look grew more melancholy, closer to mine, as he wrapped an arm around my back in a half hug. I needed warmth, in every possible sense, so I returned the gesture. He came close to my ear, whispering in the most soothing voice he could muster.

            “You didn’t have any choice. At that stage, it was either you or her. I can’t say I enjoy either outcome, but I prefer the one we got.” I tucked my head in, using him to stay up straight instead of the wall. He was softer.

            “Can we not talk about it? I need time to… think.” Self loathe was probably closer, but it wouldn’t have stopped the questioning. Nothing could, really. He was staying respectfully quiet, but it was difficult to hear over the thoughts in my head anyway.

            Did I do the right thing, killing her like that? What made her cause any worse than mine? What made mine better than hers? Here we were, just two people, and there they were, a whole civilization. How could anyone weigh a choice like that?

            I closed my eyes, focusing on the beat of my heart instead. It was heavy, just like the rest of me. I needed to think about something else, anything else, otherwise the slump would hold me back. Maybe I could just ask another question, one that wasn’t so horrible or complex. That might be enough for my brain to chew on for a while, at least until I could afford to drop my guard again.

            Then a single thought surfaced. I already asked a question, before all of that, and I never got an answer.

            “John?” I didn’t have it in me to turn my head and look, but I could feel his eyes on me. “How did you know that thing was girl anyway? And how did you know how to dodge it so well?” He had been weirdly observant the last few days, and it was starting to creep me out. Clearing up a deep seated question should have been enough.

            “…You probably wouldn’t believe me.” I snickered at the thought.

            “If you had told me a week ago that I would be skewered by a chicken, I wouldn’t have believed you. The bar’s a little higher today.” He cleared his throat, grabbing him a few more precious moments to get his explanation in order.

            “Ever since I got my glasses back, I’ve been _seeing_ things. More than I could back on the surface.” I heard the faint click of glasses being moved, then I felt them slip over my face, a layer of cracked glass between me and the room. Except, from this side, I couldn’t see the cracks. I saw the forest just outside our little hole in the wall.

            The trees were leaking a cloud of steady, white gas, like a less violent version of whatever that bigger skeleton was doing. Looking closer yet, I thought I saw something like a few letters on each tree’s trunk, but the image was too blurry to make them out.

            “Do you see them now? The runes?”

            “Is that what they are? I can’t quite focus on them.” I squinted as hard as I could, but to no avail. I couldn’t read it. The weight lifted from my ears, and my eyes went fuzzy for a second as I returned to my normal, unfiltered perspective.

            “I can see them clearly, but that’s not the important part. Not entirely, anyway. I can actually read them now. They each say, “Plant, Immobile.” A little on the nose, right?” I would have laughed if I wasn’t so intrigued. I almost had all the pieces put together.

            “Does it work on monsters, too?”

            “Yes, it seems there’s a set of runes associated with every living being. It’s rather fascinating. If I’m interpreting them correctly, they even specify what species each monster is specifically. That frog from the Ruins was apparently a Froggit, and that odd bird was a Snowdrake.” Guilt tried poking its way in, but I was concentrated enough to ignore it.

            “But what about the attacks? How did you see them coming?”

            “Did you notice how the trees seemed to be steaming?” I nodded. “Once again, this is only conjecture on my part, but I believe that is some form of magic runoff. Imagine how the Sun puts off heat but on a smaller scale. Furthermore, it tends to react whenever the base entity tries to use its magic. I could see where the cloud was flowing strongest and evade based on that instead of the Snowdrake’s motion in and of itself. It’s as though I can see beyond the creatures of this world and into their base most essence!”

            The idea was strange, but I saw his logic. A mist that telegraphed action more quickly than the body, and runes that cut directly to the heart of what the being was…

            “…What’s it say about me?” The active trance of ‘the zone’ wore off, leaving him looking at me, a little lost. “Hey, if someone had a big ‘Kick Me’ sign on their back, wouldn’t you tell them? I’m kind of curious what the sign on my back says. You know?” Understanding set in quickly.

            “Well, there are four runes, but I can only really make out the first three. The first two say ‘human’ and ‘female,’ respectively.” I could only give a deadpan reaction. Gee, really needed weird magic glasses to tell me that. His eyes went strangely tender. “And the third says ‘kindness.’” His hand enclosed around mine, a small, kind of mellow smile forming.

            “I would say that’s quite accurate. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Probably the only one who would go so far to help a lost cause like me.” He brought his other arm back from around me, clasping my hand with both of his. “You’ve saved me more in the last thirty hours than I could ever repay, but I want to try. I know how horrible the weight of the frontline must be, so please, let me handle the worst of it for you. You have my vow, not a single drop of blood will stain your palms so long as I stand.”

            I had thought I was too far in the pit for most of my emotions to reach, but embarrassment could be too strong to stop sometimes. I stretched my neck up, softly kissing his cheek before nuzzling into his neck.

            “Thank you…” I fought the waterworks back, knowing the extra moisture in this kind of weather was a bad idea. He pulled me into a hug, cradling me in his arms, ignoring the dried splotch of blood on my left. We stayed like that for a while, the lack of wind and shared heat making our alcove more than warm enough.

 

-

 

            My immersion in bliss faded away as the snoring came through. It was on the light side, but still enough to notice. I hadn’t fallen asleep, but apparently I had spaced out long enough for John to. I guess dragging someone around attacks in the middle of a blizzard was just that tiring. It was warm enough in our almost-cave, so I didn’t see any harm in letting him rest. I wasn’t quite ready yet, anyway.

            _‘So, is Sleeping Beauty awake out there?’_ And there went my good mood. I wasn’t sure how to feel about Avat, but, aside from their survival tips, it wasn’t a good feeling.

            _‘I wasn’t asleep, and you know it.’_

_‘Really? Then why have you been so distant the last few hours? Chicken dinner really that exhausting to digest?’_ It was truly disturbing to see death reduced to such a mockable thing in someone’s eyes. They were dead, after all, so there was some reasoning behind it, but I, as a living person, didn’t like it.

            _‘What do you want, Avat?’_

_‘No mood for being toyed with? Alright, fair enough. The first kill can be pretty intense, but it gets easier.’_ Not the most comforting thought. _‘I just thought you’d like to know a few things. Like, I don’t know, where you can find that Boss monster?’_

_‘…I’m listening.’_ It was better than possibly running right past it without knowing. By the time Avat could clue me in, we would be too far ahead for me to convince John to turn around for a second without raising suspicion. I had plenty of dreams about what I would do when we became a thing, but tricking him while running for our lives wasn’t one of them.

            _‘You shouldn’t have to do any fancy maneuvering or coercing to get your shining knight there to play along. He already told you he’d get you to the guy’s doorstep!’_ Wait, he did? That made it easier, sure, but when did he…

            _‘No, you’re saying…’_

            _‘Yep. They call them_ Boss _monsters for a reason. You can’t be a bigger boss than a king, right?’_ And I could see our chances of getting free taking a nosedive.

            _‘You realize that, on top of being the toughest monster around, the King’s probably going to have a small army guarding him, right?’_

_‘I need you to calm down. I’m not finished yet. Firstly, you’d probably be surprised to hear he keeps his personal detail kind of thin. By that, I mean he’s the only trained fighter in his whole castle. He’d rather keep the bulk of his Guard out and about with the people, keeping the peace, improving morale and all that.’_ Well, that was one problem down, but unless he was about to tell me how much of a wimp the King was, my first point still stood.

            _‘And yeah, he’s a pretty tough cookie, but I know how to buff you up even more.’_ I gulped, my guts telling me this was a bad idea. _‘Remember back when you beat up that bird? I told you that you picked up some EXP.’_

_‘And that would be…?’_

_‘An acronym. What it stands for depends on who you ask and where, but the important part is that it makes you stronger. The more you have, the tougher you are, and the bigger foes you can put down. You just have to find some smaller guys to kill off to get it.’_

_‘Oh, is that all? Throw away my morals just to get by another day. Yeah, sounds like a walk in the park.’_

            _‘You already did it once.’_ My gut was still churning. _‘I’m not saying you have to go hunting down innocent monsters to do it, either. You and John knew from step one that you would be attacked by the Royal Guard whenever they found you. As far as I’m concerned, anything that happens from that point on is self defense. Justifiable no matter how you look at it. Right?’_

_‘Well…’_

            “Humans!” Voices like dry, rustling leaves broke my train of thought. At the mouth of our safe zone, a pair of those carrot monsters stood, eyes straining in anger. “You’re the ones…”

            “You must be the ones…”

            “That killed Mrs. Drake!” The rest of the opening started filling with with leaves, spinning in place like shurikens. I slipped out of John’s grip, their voices too quiet and natural to wake him up. I considered it myself, but he would be more likely to panic than fight back. It was up to me.

            _‘So, what do you say? Want to trim the garden?’_ I took a deep breath, burying my worries for later. I would need therapy when all was said and done, but now, it was my only choice. John protected me, and I would protect him, at any cost.

            _‘Fine. I’ll play your game, Avat.’_

            I grabbed my pan, its handle burning at the touch.

 

-

 

            I moved the snow, handful by handful. My fingers were still shaking, but I had to do what I had to do. I just hoped this stuff didn’t melt for a while, otherwise there would be a problem.

            “Terry, where are you!?” From around the corner, I heard John yelling. I cursed to myself, thinking he would be out long enough for me to finish.

            “It’s alright, I’m right out here! I just had to… you know, do my business?” It took a second for him to reply, but when he did, he was suitably embarrassed.

            “Oh! Uh, sorry, it’s just that it’s dangerous out here, and waking up without you here and all I kind of…”

            “It’s alright, I get it. Just stay in there. I’ll be back in soon.” I was relieved that he was the reasonable sort. Someone more hotheaded would’ve just bolted out and saw before I could answer. He really was the best.

            Which is why I was also glad I didn’t have to lie to him. Just… lean a little on his interpretation. I shuddered, quickly putting more snow over the second carrot’s eyes. Those things would haunt me in my darkest dreams for years to come, I could tell. I patted the snow down, making sure it was thickly packed before standing up.

            He said he didn’t want me to fight anymore, and I’d make sure he thought I didn’t as long as I could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins the nightmare again. Things can only go so well.
> 
> Oh, and flu season hit me like a Sans. I literally can't remember what happened last Saturday besides everything turning yellow. It was like an episode of the Simpsons got crossed with a Discord episode of MLP. Any explanations for that, oh science man in the comments? I'll be putting the pen down for a few days so the cold medicine doesn't slip a dose of Harold and Kumar go to White Castle into my serious murder ghost tales. Goodnight. *face crashes to keyboard*


	10. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most measure a drop by how long it takes a coin to hit the bottom. Some can only measure by the wounds they gain as they tumble down the cliff.

            Somehow, we made it through the woods without running into anyone else. We came close a couple of times, but we were close enough to the thicker tree patches to duck out of sight whenever we heard someone. It was a good thing, too, the clattering like a mobile kitchen telling me whoever was out there had at least one guy armored up to the eyeballs in each group. You know, assuming they had eyes.

            I was starting to worry that it was my fault. Those carrots came after us before because I had already killed that Snowdrake. They weren’t well protected in the least, but who was to say other revenge seekers were as poorly prepared?

            _‘I don’t know, those guys looked like they could have been pretty tasty with a little salt.’_

_‘Avat, seriously. I’m already having doubts about eating vegetables again after this, and you saying junk like that isn’t helping.’_

_‘Hey, just being practical. Those pies aren’t going to last forever.’_

_‘And the monsters wouldn’t have stayed down long enough to be helpful anyway.’_ I realized talking on moral grounds wouldn’t get me anywhere, instead using logic to rationalize my emotionally based decisions. That worked for a while, silence reigning supreme in my subconscious.

            Our path eventually led us directly to a heavier monster settlement, though calling it ‘heavy’ is a bit of an exaggeration. It was actually more of a loose bundle of wooden shacks, like a frontier village in the far North. It also came with the benefit of there being no nighttime traffic, giving us one good shot to get through undetected.

            Still, to be safe, John used his glasses to their full effect, pushing them as close to his eyes as they could get to better see the flow of magic ahead. At least, that’s how he explained it to me. It made about as much sense as having enchanted glasses to begin with.

            And it worked. About two-thirds of the way through, he pulled me behind a shed, silently gesturing to flatten myself against the wall. In the dark of night, we almost blended right in.

            “Is that right? No magic residue at all?” The first voice sounded old and tired, though the pitch was still on the relatively higher end of male tones. It reminded me of a friendly senior, though a lot more troubled.

            “Aye. Wish it weren’t so, but’s not me call.” The second was distinctly Scottish, easy to pick out from a crowd, but it only sounded minutely younger than the other. They were each in some heavy gear if the sound of their metal-lined footsteps were to be believed, and one of them had a noticeable limp, steps staggered and lopsided. The other was faster, but that wasn’t saying much.

            “The scouts are sure it’s a murder?”

            “Yeh. There’s a pretty good indent on the poor lass’s face. Not sure how the body’s still holding together, either.”

            “Hmm.” I could hear someone scratching on a rough surface, kind of like scales. “If it’s what we think it is, maybe they didn’t intend to kill her. Self defense, you know?”

            “Are ye serious? Asking me of all bloody people.” The limped footsteps stopped for a second, giving way to a grunt of effort. “I know better than most what a human swingin’ for the fences feels like.” I didn’t even have to look at John to know he was thinking the same thing as me. His hand tensed around mine, and I knew the word of my actions had already reached this far. “Maybe one hittin’ at half heart doesn’t dust us as easy. You saw stuff like that in the first war, right?”

            “Now you’re bringing my history into it? I’d be a little offended if you weren’t right. You could tell a human didn’t really want to harm when there was still a body left over to recover.” I didn’t know what any of that meant, but I knew that they knew we were somewhere in their Underground.

            Shadows creeped into my line of sight, and I flattened myself out against the wall as much as I could. The first one came into view, a wrinkled, hunched over turtle in golden armor. The size of the hammer strapped to his back was worthy of a double take, the head bigger than any oven I had ever worked with.

            “Either way, we need to track ‘em down. We don’t need another Dancer incident on our hands.” His voice was the older of the two, worn out, but knowing.

            “Aye. Last one was bloody enough, thanks. Maybe we can put a cork in it if we can find ‘em while they’re still in Snowdin. Once they pass on to Waterfall, though, it might be a wee bit tougher.” The one with the hobbled footsteps was next, a huge dog that stood as tall as almost two and a half of me. His white fur was showing signs of greying, and his armor was a lot more dented and smudged. It was still made of the same sort of gold, but the creases along his right torso ruined the majestic aura. On top of that, it looked like his left leg could barely hold him up, almost buckling with each step.

            _‘Huh, these two are still around. They’ve faced each and every human that came through here, myself excluded. That’s about where their journeys ended.’_ I could feel Avat’s presence buzzing, focusing intently on the guards. _‘I’d say the years haven’t been too great on them, though. It shouldn’t be too hard to outrun them now, but watch out for Titan Dog’s throwing arm. It’s what axed off the first guy.’_

            I gulped, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded against my ribs. The blood of four kids was on their hands, and it sounded like they wanted to finish us off quickly. Luckily, they didn’t see us on their way by, eyes firmly locked on the woods they thought we were still in.

            I waited until they were a few hundred yards away, blurry blips at the edge of town, before I made my move. I peeked out around the shed, seeing no one else out and about to spot us. I didn’t waste any time, tugging on John’s arm twice to tell him the coast was clear before making a mad sprint for the edge of town. Just beyond the last few shacks, I saw a wall of blue rock that gave way to a single, large cave opening.

            What I failed to spot, however, was the twig at my feet, which gave way with a disproportionately loud snap.

            “Gerse, it’s them!” I looked back, eyes sharpening enough to see that the dog had turned around, looking directly at me. His right arm moved, reaching for the sheathe behind his back.

            I almost felt whiplash from how quickly I turned back to the cave, pushing myself to run as fast as I possibly could. It wasn’t long before I heard John panting from the effort, forcing me to blindly reach back and grab him by the wrist. We were getting out of there, and I didn’t care if I had to drag him with me to do it.

            As soon as we made it through the first tunnel, eyes adjusting to the darker space, we found out how it got the name Waterfall. The sound of running water was louder than anything else, and wide flows of the stuff ran right through the trail. I hurried through, blocking out the cold, wet squelching of it soaking through my shoes and everything below my knees, some of it splashing up and into my face. I could only imagine how much was getting blocked by the thick apron just under my sweater. I didn’t take the time to look, not with the clashing of metal hot on our heels.

            “Slow down, we just want to ‘ave words!” Yeah, right! Sorry, guys, but I had an inside informant. You two spelled trouble for every other human, so why would I trust you?

            The path ahead split in two. The higher road was the same as it had been, a rock ledge running through a waterfall. The lower route was a wooden bridge, stairs linking it to each side of the water flow. I imagined one of the monsters got tired of having to trudge through water every time they came through.

            Suddenly, a shower of rock chunks got thrown up, almost hitting my eyes, as a bright white lance came crashing down. It shattered on impact, too, unweaving into misty, white magic dust. It was just like Avat said, one of them had a mean throwing arm to make up for their lack of agility. As we stood now, one direct hit would bring us both down.

            “John, you take the high road. I’ll use the other one, that way they can’t hit us both in one shot!” I glanced back, seeing him nod in agreement. His skin was stained red from overexertion, but the fire in his eyes told me I could trust him to keep going. I let go, careening to the right down the wooden stairs.

            From there, the walkway split in two, a hole down the center letting solid debris from the river fall through without taking out the bridge. I took the one closest to the wall, both because it was the shortest path and because it gave me more cover incase the dog decided to throw one at me. I could hear more impacts from above, but the constant panting at least told me none had hit John. Then, as I neared the other flight of stairs, one of them sounded way too close for comfort, the rumble of shattered earth filling my ears.

            “Look out!” I was shocked, the turtle calling out to me like he was concerned, but I didn’t have the time to think about it. I heard wood breaking apart behind me, and my footing went loose.

            “Terry, hurry!” John was at the top of the stairs, arm stretched down as far as he could reach without stepping on the now rickety wood. I practically threw myself at him, but it wasn’t enough, one of the rocks falling down right between us when I was just a foot away. The ground fell out from under me, leaving me in air just long enough to realize what had happened. “Terry!”

            The way his pupils shrank as gravity took hold was burned into my mind, that raw terror almost greater than my own. He fell out of view, replaced by a quickly darkening wall of blue stone. I tried twisting midair, establish eye contact or at least see if he was taking his chance to run for his own life, but all I wound up doing was turning myself face down. The darkness below didn’t seem to have an end, a gateway to the void itself.

            _‘Damnit, I hate when this happens! Okay, I can fix this, but you need to be not awake.’_ I was already preparing a tirade against them, but my mind suddenly felt like it was being flipped inside out. My eyes blurred out into a black static, and my waking mind followed.

 

-

 

            _“Chara, no, this isn’t right!”_

_“Not right? You’re saying everything humanity did to you was just fine? Your people would disagree there.”_

_I couldn’t see anything. It was all blurry, an off golden yellow. My head was rattling like a broken lightbulb, and I could hear a muffled, angry yelling somewhere in the distance, almost completely drowned out by the argument right in my ears._

_“The humans that did that to us died a long time ago. It’s been thousands of years! These people didn’t have anything to do with it!”_

_“Their ancestors locked you away. Returning the favor is morally justified. Why can’t you see that now? Don’t you remember our deal?”_

_Suddenly, a red hot pain shot through me, then another, and another. My chest, my stomach, my neck, all pierced by an unseen danger. My body felt loose, like barely contained grains of sand in a windblown pile._

_“Well, the deal’s off. We’re going home.”_

_“No, no, A S R I E L !!!”_

 

-

 

            _‘Hey, wake up! We’re in the clear!’_ My eyes shot open, and my everything was sore. My hands instinctively ran across my torso and throat, but all I felt was the water that had sunken into the sweater. I tried blinking my vision clear several times, but there wasn’t nearly enough light to make anything out.

            _‘Ugh, what the heck was…?’_

_‘Sorry about that. It’s hard to work a body out of a tough spot when the person at the wheel keeps tensing it up. If I hadn’t forced you out, you would have been wound up tight enough to pull yourself apart on impact. You’re lucky I know a thing or two about Soul manipulation.’_ Most of their explanation was going way over my still cloudy head. All I knew was that “Soul Manipulation” sounded very not benevolent.

            _‘If it’s any consolation, you probably just dipped into my personal memories while you were out. I violated your privacy, and you mine. We’re even.’_

_‘Not like I had much choice…’_

_‘Look, we can talk about right and wrong later. Right now, you have two options. Sit here in the deep, dark trash pit until you rot or track down your boyfriend before the dog uses him like a chew toy. Your choice, no pressure either way.’_ Yeah, right, no pressure at all. I couldn’t even see well enough to know which way was up.

            _‘Man, such a crybaby. Reminds me of someone I used to know.’_ They went quiet on me for a good twenty seconds. _‘Fine, I’ll help, but only because I find it pathetically charming.’_ A burning sensation flooded through my veins, and, by the time I was used to it, my eyes were starting to clear up.

            It was still exceptionally dark, but I could see the massive piles of refuse on every side. Couches, busted TVs, lamps, shelves, just about any piece of furniture you could imagine woven into piles of grey, indistinct filth. Water was flooding down from every wall, bringing piles upon piles of broken down trash into the ankle high water that completely covered the floor. It was a total dump, in more ways than one.

            “Someone pager every environmentalist ever…”

            _‘I know, right? Kind of sucks that such a pretty place as Waterfall is the stomping ground for everything thrown in the nearby rivers back up topside. Almost surprised they couldn’t dig a solid few Souls out of this place instead of waiting for you all.’_

            “Can you not suggest we’re in another graveyard here? It’s gross enough as is.” My nose was finally waking up, exposing me to the unbridled odor of everything you could possibly imagine when you think landfill. Gasoline and rusty metal mixed with decomposing organic materials. It was the first time I had ever cursed having the sharp sniffer of a chef, almost able to pick out the faint, decayed whiffs of food.

            I rose to my somehow not aching legs, running ahead as soon as I had the balance, hands clenched firmly over my nose. It didn’t really help, but it made me feel like I was doing something useful.

            “So, about that dream…” My voice was muffled, half covered by the bottoms of my palms, but I guess that doesn’t matter to someone in your head.

            _‘Hey, I don’t know what you saw, but unless it pertains directly to you, can we leave the past in the past?’_

“Well, considering someone by the name of Chara was talking about killing humans in it, I think it means a little something.” The silence was long and awkward. I could almost feel the building uneasiness in the back of my mind, like nausea on the brain.

            _‘…You don’t need to worry about them. That was the talk of a wide eyed, narrow minded dreamer that didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. Heh, funny thing is_ they _were the one that knew about the monster-human Soul fusion thing in the first place. They just didn’t have the determination to fight their other half and go through with the job. Pathetic, right?’_ I was starting to feel well out of my depth. To hear them speak with such active disgust was chilling, like I was poking a tiger with a stick.

            “I guess, but, considering we are humans, that’s probably not a bad thing.”

            _‘Correction._ You’re _a human. I’m a bodiless Soul just hitchhiking along.’_

            Their technicalities fell mute as I noticed the general light level was going up. Somewhere ahead, there was an actual source of light, bright enough to almost leave burns in the heightened state Avat left me in. They were kind enough to start pulling back, though, letting me see the mouth of a tunnel in the wall.

            I didn’t hesitate to run headlong into it, beyond grateful as the horrible smell of garbage started to thin out. It wasn’t gone, but it was bearable. The hallway-like cavern I found myself in was a lot like the last, but it was brighter and the density of garbage was much lower. The machinery was a little more in shape, some of it looking like it was an electrical outlet away from functioning, and the grey sludge made up less and less of the piles.

            _‘Looks like we’re a fair few miles ahead of where you and your pal split. Assuming he got away from the dog, you should be able to run into him around the entrance to Hotland, first right up ahead. I’d say ditch the sweater before we get there, but the extra water might help keep the heat off.’_

            Okay, good tactical advice. Considering how on-the-nose the area names were in the Underground, I wildly guessed that it was pretty hot in Hotland. Water absorbed heat energy more efficiently than cloth, so keeping a soaked surface between me and the environment would be a smart idea. If I was lucky, that gold armor would be a lot less resilient, giving me an edge over the Royal Guards.

            But, first things first, getting through the last stretch of Waterfall. The garbage pit quickly fell behind me, the small cavern giving way to a much larger chamber. It looked like some sort of intersection, new corridors going off in every direction. The good thing was that there was only one directly to the right, like Avat said.

            The bad thing was the massive group of monsters congregating around the lake in the center. The worst thing was that the three closest to me were wrapped up in silver plated armor, and I knew by then that only one group wore heavy gear down there. The first one to notice me was some sort of small, flying bug, its face obscured by a grated helmet that reminded me of old Arthurian designs. Even so, the swift rigidness in its stance was enough to say it wasn’t thrilled to see me.

            “The human!” The room erupted in ear piercing yells, the thick crowd dispersing into whatever exit they could find. In the confusion, I struggled to pick out how many were armed and armored, but the three closest to me were definitely combatants. The bug had his flanks covered by some freaky, giant eye with stubby, plated arms and legs and a larger, more ancient looking version of the Froggits from the Ruins with a chest plate and a helmet with an eye engraved on the forehead. Neither of them had a weapon on hand, but that didn’t matter to beings of magic, and especially not when the guy up front had a spear.

            I fumbled with the tie at my side, just bringing my pan up in time to block his first thrust. The force of impact shoved me backwards, but I managed to hold an upright position, feet grinding against the ground. My breathing started catching on itself, the hoard of monsters around me blurring into an indistinct, threatening blob. There were too many, and all it would take was them realizing the number difference between them and I before I was buried under a mountain of flesh and spells.

            _‘Keep it together, kid! Just think, all of these guards are experience waiting to be collected! Are you going to give in now and let your boyfriend face the King on his own?’_

_‘…no…’_

_‘What was that? I can’t hear you under your cowardice! Louder!’_

_‘…Never.’_

_‘So this is the backup he gets, staring down an army of monsters? At this rate, John’s as good as dead! He might as well hand over his immortal Soul, sealed in a jar for the rest of eternity!’_

_‘I said…!’_

            “N E V E R!”

            My muscles flared, liquid fire replacing the blood in my veins. It burned, embers scraping at the edges of my nerves, Hell itself taking residence in my heart…

            …I had never felt more alive.

            I swung my pan out to the right, the force throwing the bug off balance by its spear. It reoriented itself quickly, but as soon as it looked in my eyes, it flinched, hesitating just long enough for me to bring the brunt of my weapon back on it. I struck the side of its head, the metal shell of its helmet denting inwards as it was sent flying to the left, collapsing limply to the ground.

            _‘You earned 60 EXP.’_

            In the corner of my sight, I caught the walking eye blinking, replacing its surface with an actual, bifocal face with a wide, antagonistic sneer. Its hands went out to the sides, fingertips glowing as it drew circles in the air.

            “Now you see me, now you don’t!” It slung them both forward, a pair of sharp, white rings slicing through the air. I ran towards it, waiting until the last second to drop to my knees, bending over backwards low enough to slide under its attack. It gasped in shock, trying to draw another set to use, but it wasn’t fast enough. I sprung up, using the momentum to bring my pan down atop it like a nail. Its oddly gelatinous body flattened against the ground. It twitched for a moment, but the last of its energy left it soon enough.

            _‘You earned 53 EXP.’_

            “Craven swarm, heed my call…” The chant was low, guttural, like a witch doctor of old, and it echoed as though spoken through a metal tube. Behind me, the Froggit had closed its eyes, focusing intensely on its spell. Its eyes flashed open, glowing a bottomless white. “Feast of Flies!”

            The ground shook violently before giving way, breaking apart to release a massive cloud of magic based bugs. They were too thick to see past, taking up more of the sky than air. I inhaled deeply, clenching my mouth shut as I charged into the swarm. Every impact with bare skin stung like being pelted with a hornet, but my heavy sweater warded off the worst of it. Soon, I broke through the other side, coming face-to-face with the conjuror. Its cheeks and throat were bloated out, and it opened its mouth on sight.

            “Bug Bomb!” I recognized the attack instantly, ducking behind my pan as I saw how little time I had. The force of the blast was stronger than any attack I had felt thus far, a cannon that shattered into smaller, almost sentient fragments on impact. These flies curved around my makeshift shield, darting across the top layer of clothes and skin like tiny knives. The numerous, shallow cuts were painful, but they didn’t have nearly enough strength to stop me.

            I brought a knee up, ramming it into the frog’s jaw. The flow of bugs ceased, those that remained plinking uselessly across my back. I raised my pan, taking only a second to aim before jamming its handle into its right eye. It let out a strangled croak, dangling lifelessly from the pan. I ripped out its last support, its slimy corpse falling to the ground.

            _‘You earned 75 EXP.’_

            Out of nowhere, a pair of overblown, muscled arms clenched around me, pinning my limbs and torso together. A muzzle hung over my right shoulder, pinching at the nerve there with its chin.

            “Aaron, get Shyren out of here!” I followed the tilt of its head, a small, almost anemically thin monster with a horse’s face and fish’s tail standing near one of the tunnel entrances. It looked like it was about to cry, but nodded, grabbing a tiny fish with a lantern on its head that was cowering in the corner before bolting out of sight. “Mermite, a little help?”

            Its snout turned, this time pointing me to a much larger, more matured version of the lantern fish. At least, its face kind of looked the same, but its lips pulled back to reveal razor sharp, shark-like teeth, and its tail elongated like an eel’s. I wasn’t sure if its blue color was natural or a trick of the room, but the tension in its jaw and the evil glare couldn’t be mistaken. The air around it started spinning, and it charged at me like a spiraled torpedo.

            “Whirlpool Strike!” Its voice sounded double edged, one end girlish and demure, the other coarse like ground up seashells and coral. I waited until it was too close to stop before hurling a headbutt to the side, taking my captor off guard. Its grip loosened, and I dropped, letting the fish slip past me and into its teammate.

            They were able to keep themselves from flying across the room, but that just meant they were still close enough to hit. I spun on my way back up, landing a clean blow on both of their heads at once. They landed in the pool at the center of the room, sinking out of view.

            _‘You earned 145 EXP.’_

            “Damnit…!” Most of the crowd had vanished, but three monsters still remained. They weren’t in armor, and one of them was pretty small, but the two larger ones up front had spears thrice as long as I was tall. They looked like a cross between humans and fish, thick, blue scales and wide, yellow fangs giving them the impression of heavy plated piranhas. One of the two frontrunners was built like a wrestler, an orange mullet almost burying his fin ears, and the other was more lithe, back length, blood red hair swept behind hers. The latter glanced back at the third fish, whose exact features were hard to spot.

            “Stay behind us! There’s no telling what the human’s capable of.” Her voice was akin to sharpening blades.

            “Don’t worry, we can take them. They must be worn out by now.” The guy’s voice was more like gravel in a blender. He might have been right, too, if he was facing me at my normal strength. Whatever Avat was doing to me, though, was erasing my body’s limits, shutting off pain responses and the sensation of exhaustion. Or maybe they really were outright boosting my strength to the point where all of them were little more than a minor nuisance.

            These two had a few surprises of their own, breaking into a sprint that topped anything the others were capable of. All I saw were blue blurs growing closer and closer, weaving in and out of each other’s paths, until a cerulean tip breached the fog on the left. I jumped to the right, avoiding a spearhead that cleaved cleanly through the solid rock ground. Behind me, I felt the other one’s presence, and I managed to drop under its attack. I felt a light, tugging pressure on my scalp, and about an inch of my brown hair and the remains of a hair tie fell down in front of my face.

            I rolled to the side again as one of them tried to bring their spear down like a hammer, feeling my now loose hair fall over my shoulders. I had to squint to keep a few unruly strands from getting in my eyes, reminding me quickly why keeping them in a ponytail was so important.

            By the time I got back to my feet, they had me surrounded, one on each side in a pincer. I could barely make out that the guy was to my left and the girl to my right before they unleashed everything they had, both of their spears coming and going as quickly as lightning. I struggled to differentiate the phantom of their last attack from the next, their raw speed overwhelming my eyes.

            I felt a light cut on my right shoulder, then another on my upper left back. I could hear the fabric of my sweater getting pierced, and flecks of my own blood filled the air near these breaches. They were too much for me. I couldn’t dodge them forever, let alone find an opening for a counterattack. I just needed a little more strength, a little more power…!

            _‘That’s it, my turn!’_ My body started feeling distant, like a cheap layer of fabric over my actual form, but I could still feel everything that happened to it. Every scrape, every rapidly exhausting muscle, every drop of energy being released into my bloodstream. The fire in my heart intensified, my every muscle swearing they were drowning in pure magma.

            My vision blurred, and I spontaneously found myself staring the guy in the face. His eyes widened in shock, but that was all the emotion he could display before the thin end of my frying pan slid through his skin like butter. It was like a rounded blade, cleanly severing his neck. The body fell back, almost in slow motion, and the head followed, before both dropped to the ground, dissipating into a smoky dust. I could feel much of it landing on my skin, staining my clothes, and sinking deeply into my hair.

            _‘Wait, what…!?’_ My thoughts were slowed, struggling against iron clasps around my Soul.

            “No, you bastard!” The girl’s voice was louder, thunder in my ears, and the air whistled. My body smoothly slid aside, right arm lazily rising as the fish woman came by. In one, clean move, the bottom of my pan came down, dragging her neck-first to the ground. Her mouth stretched wide open as the air in her lungs was squeezed out like a whoopee cushion, and her body, too, vanished into dust. It clung to my hand, and it burned like brimstone.

            “Mom, Dad!” The third’s voice was smaller, higher pitched. It was scratchy, like pebbles, and distinctly feminine. My body turned to look, revealing another piranha, but this one barely came up to my ribs. Her scarlet hair draped behind her in a loose ponytail, and she stared at the ground, entire frame shaking.

            “Give… give them back…” A line of tears ran down each cheek, a few drops falling to the ground, before her muscles tensed. Her body whipped into action, a wildfire granted skin and bone, and her slit eyes locked on mine, radiating an untamed, unwavering hatred. “GIVE THEM BACK! NYAAAAH!!!”

            Her arms lit up with light blue magic, the fluid masses shaping themselves into frazzled, unstable spears, as she ran at me with everything she had. She was almost as fast as her parents despite being no more than ten years old herself, but it wasn’t fast enough. My body smirked.

            _‘Lamb to the slaughter.’_ My intestines twisted in on themselves, the weights finally falling from my heart. I pushed myself back into my own skin, wrestling with Avat for control of my arms.

            _‘No, STOP!’_ I tried forcing myself to the right, out of her way, but it wasn’t enough. The pan came up, and it scraped across the left half of her face. Her right eye widened in shock as the other fogged over, body crumpling to the floor. The spears scattered as they met the ground, bathing the room in light blue particles.

            The enflamed energy in my body faded away, and I fell to my knees, limbs too numb to support anything anymore. My pan clattered to the floor, but the thick layer of dust on its surface failed to shake off. My eyes went glossy, tears filling to quickly to stop even if I wanted to.

            My sight trailed over to the child’s body, her right eye all but completely whited out. The left had turned a sickly grey, the skin around it starting to redden. A horrible wave of raw guilt and sorrow flooded my heart, but it gave way to unbridled sickness as her eye crumbled. A thick dust leaked from her face, leaving behind an empty socket and rough, red flesh. My stomach compacted in on itself, and my guts came up all at once.

            I rushed over to the pond, barely reaching it before a thin, watery acid pushed its way out in buckets. It ate at the lining of my throat, and my tears became even thicker as the pain overloaded my nerves. With every twitch of the fingers, the dusty layer pressed even harder into my skin, my stomach pushed even more of its contents up and out, ending only when it was wrung dry.

            _‘You earned…’_

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” I slammed my forehead against the ledge, trying to drive their accursed voice from my mind. “YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU MADE ME…!”

            _‘I made you_ survive! _Without me, those two would have killed you!’_

“But the kid wasn’t a threat! She was too little, and she only attacked me because you KILLED HER PARENTS WITH MY HANDS!”

            _‘If I had let her go, she would have devoted her whole life to revenge. She would have taken her first chance to come up to the surface as an adult and mow down every human she saw. I didn’t just save you, I saved everyone.’_

            “From your own consequences!” A horrible ache ran through my brain, and my ears buzzed with an unbearable static. I followed the sound, thoughts going blank as I saw that the dust under the little girl was still moving. It swirled around itself, and a twisted, grinning face rose from the mass. More piles broke off from the middle, congealing into two more vibrating balls of dust.

            “coMe pl _ay_. Come _p_ Lay with u _s_ …” My belly churned, threatening to empty itself again if it hadn’t already turned inside out. I got up on my shaking, throbbing legs, and I ran. Hair fell over my eyes, and I blindly ran ahead. Towards the surface. Towards Hotland.

            Towards John. I needed John, more than ever. He was the only part of me I could still recognize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from flu season, and more ready than ever! Seriously, I just got over the last of my symptoms yesterday and wrote this whole chapter in the last forty-eight hours. I'm still clueless as to why I started seeing yellow there, but I have my full range of colors back now, so all is good.
> 
> For me, at least. Terry isn't looking so great. Or that poor little fish girl. I hope she'll be alright...
> 
> "Dang you're evil sometimes."
> 
> My dear Tom, you haven't seen anything yet.


	11. Scorched Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, hellfire doesn't wait for you to die.

            Hot. Too hot. Burning. The once blue rocks were glowing red in the intense heat, open flows of magma running on either side of the path. The sweater wasn’t helping at all. The moisture evaporated almost instantly, leaving a layer that only insulated the heat in. I pried it off, discarding it into the stream and leaving only my apron. Its white surface had been stained grey by the dust.

            I gripped my stomach, that hollow, dead look in the child’s eye lodged deep in my heart. I could feel myself trying to puke, but I didn’t have anything to give anymore. I fought against the dry heaving, stumbling along on numb legs. I could barely feel my own body, only the aches and pains that seemed so severe now.

            “End of the line, punk.” My eyes trailed across the wide open cavern, following the threat to a distant stretch of land. I could see a hoard of armored monsters that way, too numerous to count. Some were in grey, others silver, and one, blocking the doorway to a white building just beyond, in gold. All of them, though, were covered in white fur and sprouted dog ears from the tops of their heads. It took my a while to recognize the gold one, the same dog that had inadvertently dropped me into the ravine before. Titan, I thought his name was. I distantly heard him talking to someone.

            “Look, me family and me are willing to work with ye, but we need you to tell us what happened to Mrs. Drake and those Vegetoids back in Snowdin Forest. We can only help ye if ye help us.”

            “You really think… I’d buy that? You… you killed…” I found myself drawn to that voice, the last shred of light in my Soul clinging to it for dear life. He was filthy, skin splattered by dirt and volcanic soot, but he was far more clean than me. He was breathing deeply, completely out of breath, and his figure struggled to stand upright.

            “It was a mistake. I only wanted to stop ye, not kill ‘er. It was me fault, and I can’t blame ye for holding it against me, but if you follow me now, I promise to spend the rest of me life making it up to ye. I’ve got clout in high places. If anyone can broker peace for ye, it’s me.” I could see Titan’s eyes from here. They were drooped, remorseful, tired. So tired. I could relate.

            “Come on, kid, listen to us. If nothing else, the Dog Squad’s one of the toughest around.” That one was on the shorter side, a thick, snowy mustache hanging over his mouth and a black executioner’s robe covering his body. There was a massive, iron axe strapped to his back, and his right hand looked primed to grab it if he needed.

            “The old coot’s right. We’ll keep you safe.” This one, a girl judging by the voice, was in the same sort of robes and had a similar weapon. The derisive way she talked about the first one reminded me of bitter in-laws, trying to work together but still taking jabs at one another.

            “We can find your friend’s body, too, give her proper peace.” This one was tall and thin, his armor little more than a few shoulder pads and a stomach piece. A pair of daggers were strapped to his belt, and he squinted as though it was hard to see.

            “Peace? What do you know about peace? She was the one _peaceful_ thing I had, and now she’s…” He shook his head, fighting back the tears. “Without her, I can’t bring myself to care. She was my everything.” His hands clenched shut, and he dropped into a poor mimicry of a professional boxer’s stance. His watery eyes were trained on Titan Dog, an unwavering fury bursting forth from his Soul.

            “And I’ll give every last piece of my useless, rotten flesh to avenge her!” His tone devolved into a bestial growl, all of the existential anger that once ate him alive turning out onto the world that spited him. I needed to get by his side, hug him, tell him it would be alright, calm him down before he crossed the same line as me.

            I would confess my sins, face punishment as I deserved, but he deserved so much more than to fall with me. Step by step, I came closer and closer. My feet could barely keep from tripping over each other, my bones only just managed to keep from collapsing, and my eyes burned from the constant red, but still I shambled along. The squinting dog noticed me before the others.

            “Wait, is that…?” He pointed my way, and a few of the dogs followed. “Hey, Glasses, your gal is right there!” His teeth grit, eyes fighting to stay pointed forward. He knew better than to turn his back to the enemy, at least from his perspective. I was about to open my mouth, call out for him, but one foot finally hit the other’s ankle, and I let out a small grunt as I hurriedly put my legs back under me. His ears perked, the anger draining from his features, and he turned around. He paused, not believing his eyes, before breaking out into the most radiant of smiles.

            “Terry!” It was as though all the weight on his shoulders faded at once, dashing at me with renewed vigor. The last of his stoic reserve failed him, tears running down his cheeks. He almost tripped once or twice, but he never stopped running, not until he had his arms around me, head craned over my shoulder. My body gave out, going limp in his embrace. “Oh Terry, I thought you… Thank God… Thank God!” His lungs struggled to get it out past the natural constrictions and mucus buildup, but he managed.

            Back near the lab, the dogs let out a collective sigh of relief. A few of them stared, hands over their hearts, the executioners let their guards down, giving each other a begrudging thumbs up, and the squinting one dropped to the ground, letting his eyes slide shut and rest.

            My gaze traveled from one to the next. They each seemed happy, even the exhausted Titan. I wasn’t sure why, but my head stopped turning when it reached him. We stared at each other, his relief melting away as concern reared its ugly head. I blinked. His white fur tinged red, along with everything else around him. He jolted out of his cautious reverie and into shock.

            “Get away from ‘er, she’s…!” A wet squelch met my ears, and my heart dropped. I could feel my arm, rising up from my waist, pan handle in its grip. I was holding it down towards the pan bed, letting half a foot of the tip poke outwards. The last inch or so jutted out his other side, covered in blood.

            “Sorry, lover boy. Terry’s not in right now.” My shoulders shrugged off his arms, creating a gap between us big enough to slide a leg up into. My body booted him to the left, leaving him less than a foot from the ledge. He stared up at me in horror, but his fear burned away into fury once our eyes met.

            “What… what are you? Where’s Terry!?” My body cackled, tapping at the side of my head with my free hand.

            “We had a little crime spree back in Waterfall, but I’m not sure she took it so well. Her Soul’s retreated from the shock, and someone had to keep this body moving in the meantime, right?” My voice was tinged with a tone not my own, but I recognized it too well. “I guess that’s the where, but not the what, huh? That one’s a little harder. I technically have a human Soul, but it’s not quite as willing to stay in one chest after death. Terry just made the mistake of letting me worm my way in too deep. Now her body’s mine, at least for now.”

            “You bastard!” John’s muscles tensed, and he fought his way back to his feet. His left hand clutched at his stomach just above his front sweater pocket, holding back the leaking from the front. “Give her back, or I’ll tear you out!” He pushed his glasses up, pupils shrinking as his vision focused. His shoulders dropped, and a mortal fear flooded his face.

            “Oh, you saw the fourth rune there, didn’t you?” Avat laughed with my lips, sauntering forward without a care in the world, pan spinning lazily in my hand. “No, you’re not seeing things wrong. That one’s my fault. Me being here kind of ate up her last quality. Independence, if you’re curious. Now…” They bursted forward, taking John off guard as my left hand wrapped around his throat. I squirmed at the walls of my mind, trying to force my way through again, but I couldn’t gain any ground.

            “Now, she’s just my Puppet!” John’s eyes grew bloodshot, oxygen supply getting cut off from the root. “Oh, you can’t stand to see your beloved’s face doing something so awful, can you?” Avat’s tone was condescending, like they were talking to a toddler. “Here, I know how to make it all better.” The pan slid smoothly under their arm, pinned down by the elbow so they could reach out with their right hand. John’s glasses came off easily, leaving his world an indecipherable blur. Avat tossed them aside, a useless trinket.

            “There, now it’s not Terry killing you. It’s me…” They leaned in close, whispering into his ear. “(^@%@…” My brain fizzled like a cooking egg, and the way John twitched in their grip told me he felt the same way. “Oh poor Johnny, does it hurt? Here, I’ll take all the pain away.” Their arm lowered, hand gripping tighter as John’s head came down over the ledge, the distance between him and the stream dropping by the moment.

            _‘Avat, please, stop this!’_

_‘Sorry, kid, but we can’t have you getting Determined enough to fight me here. I made that mistake once already with Asriel, and I’m not doing it again.’_ Their hand dipped lower, lower, closer, closer…

            _‘Stop it!!!’_

            “So long, smart guy. Game Over!” With a wide grin, they shoved him down the rest of the way, sinking him up to the neck in molten rock. They let go, letting him stay there as the stream ate away at his flesh beneath the surface. His body spasmed one last time before his life left him. All that remained was a burning corpse.

            Whatever energy I had in my disabled form disappeared, and my mind rang hollow. He was gone, and with him went my last tether to my self. All that remained of me was Avat’s puppet and a dysfunctional Soul buried under the dust.

            Avat hopped backwards, narrowly avoiding a flying magic lance. They slowly turned right, smirking at the enraged Titan Dog. Their shoulders came up in a shrug.

            “Oops, did I do that?”

            “I should’ve known. Whenever a human comes through, t’ain’t long before you come back for more.” A hand came up over my heart.

            “Oh my, you remember me! I’m so flattered. Then again…” They gestured at his left leg, still straining under his weight. “I guess it would be hard to forget the one that busted your knee. Ah, memories. How are Lily and Cliff’s Souls doing anyway? Well, I hope. Might just have use of them when I’m done with you all.” Titan snarled at the thought.

            “I’d sooner die in a lonely grave than let you do any more damage to them.” His fur whipped in an unseen wind, lips pulling back to reveal a muzzle filled with bright white fangs.

            “That can be arranged.” They took a step forward, and the black robed dogs came screaming out from Titan’s sides, axes in hand. His rage abated into fearful worry.

            “What are you doing!?”

            “What’s it look like?” The guy came first, bringing his blade down. My pan went up, blocking the strike. The dog grinned, grinding the head forward to hook around the edge of the pan bed. To the side, the girl prepared a sideways swing.

            “Backing our Captain!” She struck low, aiming for the legs, but Avat jumped up, hooking their legs around the guy’s handle. They pulled at their pan hard, using the strength of the pole against him as the axehead ripped away. They dropped from the now useless stick, slinging the axe back at him. He was too slow to dodge properly, a deep gash getting torn beneath his right arm. He crouched over to hold his wound, directly into the path of a metal uppercut. He flew backwards, falling limply to the ground.

            “Dogence!” The girl tried to play her part with a solid strike to the neck, but Avat was too fast. The pan’s handle was buried just under her ribs, her insides getting stirred for the brief moment before they ripped it out. She collapsed into a pile, axe lodging blade down in the dirt.

            “Dogtrude!” Titan tried to rush to their sides, but his leg gave out, forcing him down to one knee. He held the faulty limb tight, teeth grinding as he bit back the pain. In his stead, the twin dagger dog leaped forward, spinning like a top with his blades in hand.

            “Run away, girlie, the chase is half the fun!” Most people would have taken one look at the metal tornado and the fanged grin spinning around on top and run as quickly as they could in the other direction. Avat, though, threw normality to the wind, standing perfectly still in place. “Go on, run, scream for me!”

            The dog’s confidence began to waver, the squint in his eyes getting tighter with each rotation. It was like he couldn’t see them at all, right up until he was within reach.

            “Daggo, they’re right in front of ye’!” Titan’s warning reversed the squint, but that wide eyed look could have also been Avat’s left hook to his stomach. The still point on his core brought his attack to a screeching halt, globs of saliva getting shaken loose from his muzzle. He sputtered incoherently as Avat hunched over like a football player.

            “Red rover, red rover…” They punctuated every other word by burying their hand deeper into his guts. Eventually, it almost felt like it was coming out his back. “Send Daggo right over!” They put all their strength behind a body check, dislodging him from his hanger and sending him back to Titan, a gap about an arm wide punched through him. His insides were blank and luminescent, like glowing clay of an unnamed color.

            “No, not…” Titan refrained from looking at his fallen friends, body shaking from some combination of grief and physical pain.

            “Come now, you have no right to grieve.” Avat sauntered his way, swaying their hips like a sadistic alpha. “I mean, you were just kneeling there the whole time. I know you have more than enough fight in those bones to go fist-to-fist with me, but you just sat there with a thumb in your mouth as your pals and a human died. Well, technically two humans, considering…” They stopped to scratch their head, seriously considering the semantics. Why should they focus on anything else? They already proved their superiority.

            “And I guess you’re not as resilient as you used to be. Hell, with an injury like yours, you’re probably feeling my LOVE in the air as we speak. Let’s face it, dog man, your time is up. So step aside.” They leaned to the side, looking past him at the pack of increasingly enraged dogs. There were too many to count, some rattling weapons as they shivered with pent up energy and others clenching their hands as hard as they could. “It’s time for the new guard to prove their worth.

            Titan looked to the ground, closed eyes and muffled sobs highlighting just how far he had fallen. I could understand, letting so many loved ones in his charge die. I was in his position, and I was in no better condition…

            Or so I thought, until his head lifted, revealing the upturned corners of his mouth. His eyes were distant, hollow, and he chuckled without mirth.

            “I don’t think ye’ understand yer opponents too well, ye’ wee blighter. Dogs are… a funny bunch. We don’t care what we go through, long as it means someone else doesn’t have to do it, too. And these guys…” He finally looked to the three vanguards, a spark of pride filling his empty eyes. “They went ahead, knowing it was death, just to give us a taste of what we’re facing. The bravest of us all, truly.” He worked against his busted knee, putting all his weight on it. He cringed several times, but, eventually, he managed to lock it in place under him.

            “Ye’ say yer LOVE’s what’s holding me down, eh? Level of Violence, a measure of one’s willingness to hurt.” He laughed, this time, with some actual spirit. “Well, let’s just say, I’m in a real LOVE-ing mood me-self. We all are.” He glanced behind him, the last of his army starting to convulse. Many of them dropped to their arms, baring their teeth as a wave of bestial strength washed over them.

            “And we dogs, we never fight as just ‘one.’ Don’t ye know anythin’ about pack hunters?” He yanked hard at the leather strap around his chest, tearing it apart and letting his sheathe fall to the ground. The wave struck him last, the metal of his armor whining under the pressure as the grey in his fur vanished. “Now, witness the true might of our people. Let the clock rewind to ages long gone…” His entire frame swelled, his golden shell cracking as he outgrew it. His arms half flexed at his sides as he stared at the heavens above.

            “Blood of the Beast!” The room quaked, the sound of a thousand wolves tearing through the Underground. Behind him, his dogs roared to life, bounding forward as one collective whole. Partway through, I noticed they were less solid than before, their paws flowing like fire. I only realized the full extent of the matter when they collided with Titan, a column of raw, white power enveloping him, his plate mail peeling away shard by shard.

            “Dog Squad: Wolf Formation!” Avat was forced to cover our eyes, the light consuming the entire chamber. When my vision came back, I was left looking up at the towering figure they had become. It was a wolf of unrivaled size, easily exceeding fifteen feet tall and almost three times as long. Its fur coating had been exchanged for bright white fire that rippled in an unseen wind, and its eyes were crimson lights just beneath the surface.

            “WE ARE ONE.” Its new voice was almost deafening, as deep as the sea, each syllable shaking rock loose from the roof. “NAMELESS SPIRIT THAT BATHES IN DUST AND BLOOD, KNOW THE MIGHT THAT ALL MONSTERS FEAR. KNOW THE WRATH OF _LUPUS MAJOR_.” It reared back on its hind legs, unleashing a roar that cracked the foundation of the cavern, the most unstable land masses cracking away. They understood that the lava would hurt less.

            But Avat could only smile wider.

            “Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about!” They took a hunched stance, left hand held out to the side to better balance with the pan on the right, shaking with all the excitement of its new wielder. “Let’s dance, Fido!”

            I almost thought my mind had short circuited again, Lupus skipping directly from standstill to headlong dive. How could something so massive move so quickly? Its front paws had melded together into the tip of a spear, or, rather, the head of a bullet.

            Avat ran forward, waiting until they could smell the beast’s breath before they dropped to their knees, sliding under the living projectile. They took a swing at its stomach, but any effect was minimal at best, the pan bed passing through it as though it was completely fluid.

            “FOOLISH NON-HUMAN.” Just as they thought they were out of the woods, coming out the other side of the tunnel, its tail came down like a fly swatter, bathing them in flames. I writhed in forced silence, every inch of charred skin registering clearly. I held no dominion over my body, but it affected me all the same.

            “PHYSICAL STRIKES MEAN NAUGHT TO ONE SUCH AS WE, FOR WE BEAR NO BODY TO STRIKE. WE ARE ANGER MADE MANIFEST, THE FLAMES OF DESTRUCTION.” Its legs extended to the ground, stretching like rubber before dragging the rest of it down, the whole skidding to a stop and turning to face us in one flowing movement. Clouds of stone fragments and dust rose in its wake. “WHEN YOU KNOW THE PAIN OF OUR KIN, THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS YOU SENT SCREAMING UNTO DEATH, ONLY THEN HAVE YOU OUR PERMISSION TO PASS AS WELL.”

            “EVERY BROKEN LIMB.” Avat had only barely found their way back to their feet when its tail lashed out, carving a scathing line across their back. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t even hear myself. “EVERY SHATTERED FAMILY.” Another strike, this one splitting the ties on my apron. It fell away, leaving Avat in my thin, green t-shirt. “EVERY FUTURE LOST TO YOUR ENDLESS HUNGER, THOSE OF MONSTER AND MAN ALIKE.” One more, the very edge of the flames licking at my spine.

            I couldn’t stand any more, but I had no choice. Either Avat retaliated, killing Lupus Major with my own hands, or they stayed lost in the irreversible stagger, letting more of my nerves succumb to the fires of Hell on Earth. I lost either way. Why would God let pain like this exist?

            “ACCEPT PUNISHMENT.” The strikes became steady, each heartbeat punctuated with a fresh wound. “BLEED.” The tempo increased, a lash every second. “ _SUFFER!_ ” The blows melded together in my mind, a constant agony that never let up.

            “…you… You daMN M U T T.” My body screamed as Avat forced it to function, whipping around and grabbing its tail mid attack. Lupus’s eyes widened in shock. “I T O L D Y O U. M Y L O V E I S U N E N D I N G.” They dropped my pan, letting it fall uselessly to the ground and balling my hand into a fist. My feet dug into the ground, straining against Lupus’s incredible mass. “I W I L L N O T F A L L S O E A S I L Y.”

            At the bottom edge of my vision, I saw… something emerge. It was like a floating heart, cracked and worn, glowing a deep red, coated in a sickening grey. Its light grew brighter, somehow linked to the force Avat exerted on my nearly broken body. It felt like my arms were swelling, bulking out until not even the incredible Lupus Major could resist.

            The ground beneath its feet gave way, the whole getting dragged to its back. It skid across the ground, bouncing off an incline in time to meet Avat’s right hook head on. It was sent sprawling limply, but Avat’s grip stayed firm. They started turning, bringing themselves to a tornado spin with the wolf coming along for the ride. Around and around they went, until the scenery became a red and orange blur.

            They let go, and the world came to a nauseating halt. My mind was rolling in my skull, but I retained the sense to hear a pair of great collisions, once forcefully against metal, once dully on the ground. Lupus had been thrown at full speed against that rectangular, steel building, leaving a dent behind as they dropped to the dirt.

            Its blazing flesh died out, leaving behind a pile of unmoving, dead eyed dogs. In the center of it all was Titan, the gold plating of his armor almost completely stripped away, leaving behind a leather base layer. Against all odds, he was still breathing, and Avat sneered

            “Heh… heh… See? What’d I tell you?” They limped towards him, left leg unable to move, past the now worthless corpses. Titan was face down on the ground, arms held close under him. “This killer doesn’t take no for an ans…” They reached out to mockingly scratch behind his ear, but the lightest brush was the exact trigger he had been waiting for. His left arm jumped to hold him up, elbow to the ground, and his right was primed with his discarded, still pristine lance. It slid forward faster than either of us could react, and the heavy beating of my heart came to a sudden halt.

            “And this dog doesn’t leave a job half done.” His work done, he let his body collapse, chuckling lightly to himself as Avat backed away slowly, hands running over the lance. “Well, lads…” His eyes hazed over, but I wasn’t sure if it was from tears or his own injuries. “Looks like our last mission… was a success. Dog Squad… dismissed.” With a trembling right arm, he gave one last salute, smiling as cockily as he could manage before life passed him by. His body fell under its own weight, his expression surprisingly peaceful.

            “Damn… dogs…” I could taste copper, and my limbs started burning with a lack of oxygen. My green shirt was staining a deep red. “Oh well. I’ll just…”

            “Just shove off, you damn dirty psycho.” An old, scratchy voice sounded behind us. Standing there, body drooping with an all-absorbing grief, was the turtle guard from before. I couldn’t quite see his eyes, blocked by the shade from his salute. “You’ve done yer damage for one run, now get out. Give the poor girl a little peace.”

            “Peace?” Avat was as high and mighty as ever, mocking Gerson from their death bed. “Oh don’t worry, that’s my goal here. You’ll all know peace soon enough, but not the way you’d probably hope for. I just need one more human. One more would be more than enough…” Their giggles turned over to a maniacal cackle, echoing through the chamber, drowning out the churning of molten rock. “Do you hear me, old man!? When next I rise, you’ll all know the real meaning of this cruel, twisted world! In my world, it’s KILL OR BE KILLED! S O S A Y S (^@%@!”

            Their laughter faded away, leaving only silence, and the weight of the world hit me all at once. I felt my muscles responding to my thoughts once more, but I couldn’t move. I could breath, but my mouth couldn’t form the words anymore. My eyes were my own, but I couldn’t stand to see the scene in front of me. Pain, so much pain. My legs trembled, and I fell backwards, impact with the ground driving the spike from my chest. In exchange, the rocks aggravated the burns across the whole of my skin, the blood seeping from each wound intermingling on the craggy ground beneath me. Slowly, the turtle came into view.

            “Kid, I’m so sorry. This makes six rough and tumble humans I couldn’t help, and four brought to their knees by that thing.” He gently ran a hand through my hair, the first thoughtful contact I had experience in what felt like an eternity. “I know you must be hurtin’ pretty bad, and leavin’ ya to bleed out like this just isn’t right. Whatever comes next, know that you’re in my prayers.” He snorted. “Course, chances are you don’t have much faith in the high and mighty guy after all this. Truth be told, I’m with you there after seeing what they did to that poor Undine back there. Left without a memory in her head, not even a name…”

            He stepped back, reaching for the hammer strapped to his back. With a hesitant sigh, he pulled it free of its sheath, raising the head straight up with both arms.

            “Goodnight, kid. Sleep well. May your dreams be free of this horrible torment.” My heart was heavy, both grateful and regretful at once. It was getting harder and harder to see, but I tried looking him in the eye.

            “…th-thank… you…” My words were thin, airy. He closed his eyes, turning his head away as he let the hammer fall. In those few moments, death raining down on me at last, I couldn’t help but cry.

            _‘John, I’m…’_ I didn’t have enough time to finish my thought, but I knew all the time in the world wasn’t enough to make up for what I did. The sands in my clock fell away. For a single instant, I felt the warm surface of gold on my nose. The next, I felt nothing but the cold and saw nothing but darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the last of the six original humans. Been a good few months since I went off on this so-called "side story," but I'm glad I did. It was a refreshing change of pace to step away from the Shonen style action and heavily interwoven plots for a bit, but, as you can see from Titan's last stand, I'm itching to get back to the meat and potatoes. Before that, though, long time readers know what's next. One last chapter to go. Back to the future! (Or present, I guess. Have to be precise with time shenanigans in effect.)


	12. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Sun rises, you won't necessarily like what you see, but that brittle path forward must be walked.

            I felt everything. My flesh split a hundred times over from spears and blades of all shapes, my skin was stiff, unresponsive, reduced to a solid coating of ash. My lungs couldn’t open, pinned shut by pillars of uncaring rock, and my heart was little more than paste. My head was submerged in some sort of thick, pungent fluid, and it poured in through every orifice. I clawed at my neck, where the liquid flames transitioned to nothingness, but my nerves were long singed away.

            I tried to scream, but I couldn’t hear anything. See anything. Feel anything, anything but death. I screamed, and screamed, but nothing happened. I tried to move, to fight against whatever held me so tightly, but my body gave no stimuli that told me whether it was working or not. The very Souls in my chest burned…

            “…wake up…” A voice. I couldn’t tell its tone, its intent, not even its gender. I wasn’t even sure if there was actually a voice at all. I screamed into the dark, crying out for someone. Anyone. Mom. Dad. Frisk. Please, it was so dark. So… cold…

            “Snap out of it!” Suddenly, a sting across my cheek. There was a pressure there, on both of them, like someone was holding me up by the muzzle. I thought I felt hands. Familiar hands. Then a surge of energy, raw Determination tinged with a shade of gold…

            My eyes flew open, and my lungs finally relaxed enough to breath. My eyes were fuzzy from lack of oxygen. There was someone right in front of me, the one who was calling out. I could just barely make out their short stature and brown hair.

            “F… Frisk?” A sigh of relief, then a grunt of effort. I was pulled up from wherever I was laying, and arms wrapped around me. They were stiff, like rough cloth in texture. I could feel the muscles under them struggling against something. Then I remembered. “You sure you should be doing that? The casts are kind of meant to keep you from moving.”

            “Don’t care. Too worried.” Some things never changed, even with bones reduced to powder.

            “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

            “Mmhm.”

            “Asriel, is your body working properly? Come on, let’s get you back in bed.” My vision started clearing up, letting me see the barely restrained panic on Alphys’s face. I could only imagine Frisk’s eternal chill was keeping her from freaking right the heck out. “And Frisk, you should get back in your chair. Your recovery is slated for another few months as is.” There was a nervous chuckle, and I looked down, my face not three feet from the floor. Had I rolled out of the bed?

            “I’ve gotcha, just don’t look me in the eyes yet. No tellin’ how the new kids’d react.” Gerson’s wily, old person talk was a much appreciated break from his younger self’s seriousness. And old Gerson didn’t have the strength in him to smash me like a bug, so that was comforting. He could still lift me, though, hauling me through the air and onto soft covers. I closed my eyes before I could see him, and he had the great idea of actually getting those heavy blankets up over me.

            “Okay, I think I’m far enough away now. Open up.” The first thing I saw wasn’t him, what with Greater Dog’s hulking suit of armor in the way. He was lifting Frisk back into their wheelchair, surprisingly gentle with their mummy-wrapped body considering his size. He was almost as big as…

            My chest twisted inwards, my internal magic flow getting swallowed up in some sort of epicenter. The entire area lit up in pain, like heartburn times seven. Alphys was over in moments with her laptop, pulling the covers down to get a better look, not that there was much to see on the surface. All the action was on the inside, and I had a sneaking suspicion about where.

            _‘Mr. Asriel, there’s a problem!’_ Right on cue.

            _‘What’s going on in there, Sherri?’_

_‘John’s awake, and the second he saw Chara…’_ That was all I needed.

            “It’s okay, Alphys, I think they’re still feeling the ripples from… you know, death.” Another pulse of pain rang out, and I could feel the DT flow inside me heating up. “I’ll go talk to them. Try to keep me on the bed, okay?” She gulped, nodding as she reached for a length of rope Gerson offered. Why he had some on him was a question for another time.

            I closed my eyes, and I let control of my body fall away, retreating to my inner workings. The normally soothingly warm Determination pool was instead blisteringly hot, the other six colors being drowned out by the deep purple streams. The orange energy seemed to be trying to contain it, pushing back wherever the two met.

            “Asriel, this way!” A small, light blue figure caught me eye, a little girl in baggy clothes. She floated towards the center of the pool, and I followed closely, the once familiar metaphysical pathway twisted beyond recognition.

            It didn’t take long for the Souls to come into view. Four of them looked about how I left them, but three had changed. The green Soul had shrunk, about half the size of the others, and its colors were muted, smothered by a dark layer overtop. The purple Soul, though, had swollen up to one and a half scale, its surface writhing under the raw Determination that spewed forth.

            The red Soul, around which the other six gathered, could hardly be recognized as such, almost completely blacked out by the rampant purple energy. I gasped at the sight, pushing myself to top speed.

            Underneath the Soul core, six figures had gathered. Off to one side, a dark blue girl in dancer’s attire was trying to bring a green girl in a thin tank top to her feet, but she refused to budge. In the center, a bright yellow boy in cowboy’s gear, only missing the Stetson, stood between two masses, an arm held out each way. On my right, a big, orange street punk looking guy held back a purple kid in a heavy sweater.

            One glance at the latter was enough to say where this turmoil was coming from. His teeth were gritted together as hard as the human jaw could manage, and his eyes bulged out with an inhuman rage. Somehow, his thin, bookish frame managed to put up a fight against his retainer’s more rough, trained figure, forcing him to lean on a firm double arm bar to keep him from escaping.

            To the left, the center of his wrath, was a deep red form, flat on their back on whatever counted as a floor here. I hurried to their side, my heart heavy with worry.

            “Chara, are you…?”

            “Let me go, you don’t know who you’re trying to protect here!”

            “Pretty sure I do, and you’re part of ‘em! If you’d just listen…!”

            “That rat bastard killed us! They killed us!”

            “That don’t mean much when we’re _all_ dead here.”

            “If we’re dead, then they’ll have to find a new word for what I do to…”

            I tuned them out, taking stock of Chara’s injuries. It was hard to tell, form reduced to one, solid color that only varied in lighting, but I was sure there was a solid mark on their left cheek and the underside of that eye. I couldn’t see the eye proper, hidden under neck-length, shaggy hair.

            Suddenly, laughter. It was joyless, empty, but it was there. The ‘room’ went quiet, all eyes going to Chara.

            “Finally. Had that coming for… too long now. Thanks.” They sat up, head and arms limp like a stringless marionette. “Let him go, let him have his moment. Go on, hit me again. And again. And again!” They lifted their head, revealing a manic smile and dead, darkened eyes. They were devoid of any and all true emotion, only the husk left in the wake of sin. I had seen it in the mirror too many times to mistake it for anything else.

            “I deserve nothing less.” I wanted to slap them and hold them close at the same time.

            “Chara, we can work this out. All we’ll get done by fighting like this is killing everyone here all over again.” John took his chance to take deep breaths, not that they did much in an airless environment.

            “What do you mean?” I turned to him, giving my most exhausted, worn look.

            “We all died once, and it’s only the runoff from what’s left of us that keeps us around. The energy around us, this Determination…” He stopped, taking a look at the slowly normalizing streams around us. “…If even one Soul were to leave the matrix, the power flow would stop being enough to sustain life, and I don’t know what that would do to you. Maybe you’d go back into an inert state, or maybe you’d shatter from repeat exposure. And that goes for every human here. Chara, you, even Terry. Could you make her go through that uncertainty and suffering again?”

            The look in his eyes was somewhere between wanting to hit me with a truck and acceptance, but the way his shoulders slacked suggested the latter. I nodded to Bill, and he slowly let him go, and when he didn’t immediately charge forward, we both let out a collective breath. We were fortunate he trusted in logic more than his gut.

            He stumbled on his feet for a moment, adjusting to the soft, not-quite-there feeling of the floor. When he was able to stand without wobbling, he drifted over to Terry’s side, gesturing for Lily to back up a little.

            After making sure he wasn’t going to come back at them, I took a closer look at Chara’s condition. There was definitely a spectral shiner on their left, the skin under their eye puffing up, leaving a dark line on the underside of the socket. Looking straight at the eyes, though, made it seem even worse, the slight bump in their spirit fading away to absolute nothingness.

            “…Az, I can’t make up for what I did to him if you keep coddling me like this.”

            “And neither of us will be able to face what we’ve done if you go and get yourself killed. That look he had wasn’t an “I’m going to beat the heck out of them” look. It was an “I’m going to murder someone” look. We both know that.” They stared doggedly at the ground, avoiding eye contact like the plague. “You need to remember, I’ll never blame you for what you’ve done. That feeling of unrivaled power, of authority, it can twist you way too easily. I, of all people, should know what it’s like. Heck if I’ll ever figure out how Frisk handles it so well.”

            “You forgave me, and I’m grateful for it, but you’re not the only one here.” They let out a puff of air, a rueful smile creeping up. “If it hadn’t been for you and Bill, John would’ve beat me to a DT pulp. Rightly so. And Cliff, the only reason he isn’t doing it right now is because he respects you more than he hates me.”

            “If that’s all there is to it, why do you think he stepped in to help instead of letting ‘justice’ run its course? Why did Bill hold him back like that, and why did Sherri put so much energy into trying to bring me in, the one person with the right experience to diffuse the situation?” I slipped a hand under their chin, bringing their head up so they couldn’t avoid me anymore.

            “And why would I vouch for you, the one person here who was caught up in what you did to the timeline? If anyone would hold a vendetta, you’d think it would be me, right?” Their reaction was nearly unnoticeable, a slight tilt of the eyebrows. “But I remember what you were like before you became a wandering Soul. Before you started taking over bodies. Before Frisk. You were a good person then, someone who genuinely wanted to help monster kind get back to the surface, and I can see that you want to be that person again. I mean, look at me. I’d still be soaking up my water from the ground if you hadn’t come back for me.” They let out a small laugh, a real one.

            “And I’d still be stuck in that box in the garden if Flowey hadn’t forgiven me…” I smiled, the idea finally getting through to them. From there, I just tried to seem supportive, staying perfectly still as their right eyebrow started to lift. “What do you want me to say? Gee, Asriel, I was sure being a real Debbie Downer, but I promise not to do it again.” I couldn’t help but laugh, breaking out into a nervous grin.

            “Uh, actually, that’s all I’ve got.” We both chuckled, the tension between us all but shattered. It wasn’t the only tough spot in the room, though, my eyes drifting to the distant space where John was holding Terry, the latter curled up against his chest, face buried in his sweater. “I should probably check on them, huh?” Their mood declined again, but they managed to stay above water this time.

            “Yeah, but take it slow. I tried once, and, well…” They rubbed their left cheek. “Didn’t turn out so well.” I nodded, making special note to watch out for right hooks as I floated across my internal space. John didn’t even glance my way.

            “You’re Asriel, right?” I nodded, recognizing the hard, nonnegotiable edge his voice. His head turned a fraction of an inch, barely putting me in the corner. “Your Soul signature, it’s just like Toriel’s. Any relation?” I was taken back, suddenly feeling very exposed. Wasn’t the Soul seeing thing tied to his glasses?

            “I’m her son…”

            “Thought so. You share her predilection for trying to find a simplified solution in the name of peace.” His tongue was sharp, and his observations sharper. “Terry told me she knew your name from a vision she gleamed from…” His eyes whipped to Chara and back to me in a matter of moments. “…Them. From what I gather, you hold sway over them, right?” I nodded, but I could feel my unease growing by the word. It only solidified when they looked at me directly, eyes infused with the sort of will that was hard to deny.

            “I will say this once, and only once. I stay my hand only because of our precarious situation that forces us to depend on them being alive, and Toriel was far too kind to us for it to go without some form of thanks. I will keep the peace for now, but mark my words…” His grip on Terry grew tighter, more protective.

            “If they so much as think of going down the path of the apocalypse again, I will do everything in my power to see their Soul scattered to the wind. I would sooner die than live to put Terry through that horror show again.” I felt my instincts telling me to go on the defensive for them, but I knew better than to pick the wrong battle at the wrong time.

            “I understand. Trust me, they’ve done a few things between your time and now, and I dread the idea of those events repeating. But they want to put their past behind them. I don’t expect you to get along overnight, but give them enough of a benefit of the doubt to prove themselves.” He seemed skeptical, but in no mood to fight.

            “…I make no promises.” When he curled back into his reclusive ball, running a hand through Terry’s hair, I knew the conversation was over. I had hoped to get a few words with her, too, but she was out cold, recovering from her ordeal. I had to remember that, from their perspectives, the battle in Hotland had just ended a few minutes ago, and the blood was still fresh. I had some idea of how he must’ve felt, rubbing the phantom ring of heat around my neck.

            Looking around, it seemed things were settling down. My chest wasn’t compacting in on itself anymore, and all seven colors in the air were evenly spread again. Bill, Lily, and Cliff were talking about something, but I wasn’t the sort to eavesdrop. All I took away from them was how their muscles relaxed, a sign that they felt the danger had passed. They glanced towards John and Terry every now and then, but I couldn’t blame them for being curious.

            Back towards the center, under the Souls, I saw Chara reaching out, taking Sherri’s offered hand. It was relieving on some level. I meant what I told them before, about people caring about them now, but a little evidence that I wasn’t the only one made me feel a lot more certain. She, at the very least, knew Chara had gotten more than a few people killed, and I wasn’t exactly subtle in hinting there was a lot more we had yet to explain, but she still found it in her heart to help them back to their feet. A massive weight fell from my shoulders.

            Things were far from perfect, but knowing I played some roll in them being as close to alive as they could be now helped balance against it being my screwup that reignited the war that got them killed. It was one step, but there were several hundred more to go. One for every timeline I ever ruined, one for every heart that was still scarred from my old self’s heartless pursuit of pleasure…

            But now, at least I knew I didn’t have to stand alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't really think all of the humans would go by without Chara getting royally throttled at one point, did you? They're redemptive, sure, but the word 'innocent' doesn't belong in the same atmosphere as them.
> 
> Anyway, that ends the several months of side story, though the details here will be playing a bigger role in the main series than most side stories elsewhere. Hopefully I can sum up the broad strokes in the third story proper. You know, without pulling a Naruto style "flashback episode."
> 
> Now, I am working on that, but there might be an itsy-bitsy delay. You know, important stuff. Very...
> 
> *sidelong stare at Breath of the Wild disc*
> 
> ...very...
> 
> *looks at release dates of Mass Effect: Andromeda and Persona 5*
> 
> ...important stuff. Heh...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, and I'm ready to break hearts! Merry Christmas or whatever-you-celebrate, I've got a stocking full of ideas!
> 
> And a small side package of warning. If you couldn't tell from the above, I'm about to try writing romance. Considering my experience in the field (that being none whatsoever), this could go one of many ways. Let's see what happens, yeah?


End file.
